


Like Hurricanes

by rosehead



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Bilingual Lance (Voltron), Bisexual Lance (Voltron), Cuban Lance (Voltron), Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Gay Keith (Voltron), Hunk & Lance (Voltron) Friendship, Hurt Keith (Voltron), Keith (Voltron) Angst, Keith/Lance (Voltron) Angst, M/M, Major Character Injury
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-27
Updated: 2020-11-10
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:20:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 39,490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27226432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosehead/pseuds/rosehead
Summary: Keith would sacrifice everything for any of his teammates, especially a certain blue paladin. Even if it could lead to certain death. The Voltron team gets a well-deserved and longed-for vacation, starting with the blue and red paladins finally finding a family.
Relationships: Acxa & Veronica (Voltron), Adam/Shiro (Voltron), Hunk & Lance (Voltron), Hunk & Pidge | Katie Holt, Keith/Lance (Voltron), Lance & Veronica (Voltron), Matt Holt & Pidge | Katie Holt
Comments: 34
Kudos: 178





	1. The beginning of the end

Lance heaved a gusty sigh (it fogged up his visor) as they spread out over the barren terrain of the planet they just landed on.

_"What's wrong?" _came Pidge's voice in his helmet. _"Something you see?"___

__"Nah," he answered, squinting and trying to look through the fog. "It's just such a dead planet. It's killing my brain cells as we speak."_ _

__"I wasn't aware you had brain cells to kill." Keith's voice, echoing both from a few meters behind him and from his helmet. Lance could've sworn that the rather mean comment had been said through a smile, though._ _

__"Uh, rude. I don't need your sass right now, mullet."_ _

__It was true, though. The tiny planet of Trisavere was like an eyesore in the middle of space, even from miles away. The color of it was a sickly dirt yellow, and when they landed, the deserts of dead foliage and rubble stretched as far as the eye could see. The air was forty percent carbon dioxide, sixty percent sulfur, and definitely not breathable. It was a desolate environment, with broken buildings and scorched structures everywhere._ _

__Keith bent down at the edge of the torn-apart street to pick something up, and smoothed it down in his hands. It took him a second or two to recognize that it was a small sock, burnt beyond recognition._ _

__"It must have been something horrifying," he said quietly, so low that his teammates barely heard him. "To destroy an entire civilization."_ _

__Lance turned around, and his face fell when he saw Keith looking at the sock with something unreadable in his eyes. Unlike the rest of the Paladins, Keith was wearing his Blade armor, with only his Marmora knife (or sword) for a weapon. Lance hadn't really seen Keith wearing it on missions with them before, and damn, was he still taking time to get used to it. Keith was definitely the emo, but it wasn't even a question whether he looked hot in black with a hood over that ridiculous mullet._ _

__(If Lance was going to die in space, at least he would die knowing that he had seen Keith's ass in skin-tight spandex or whatever the hell those suits were made of.)_ _

__(A worthy way to go.)_ _

__"Buddy, you alright?" Lance didn't like it when Keith had that bleak look in his eyes. It was the look of someone who had seen destruction before, who had witnessed it first-hand. His father had been a fireman. Lance knew that at least, if he didn't know anything else. It must have been a bad fire to kill an experienced firefighter._ _

__Keith looked up, and the sock fell from his hands and settled in the dust. His neutral expression was back again, and he nodded._ _

__"Yeah. Let's continue to scout?"_ _

__Lance looked at him for a few seconds before they kept walking._ _

__"Alright," Shiro asserted. "If we don't find anything or any signs of life in the next ten minutes, we can leave."_ _

__Keith sighed with relief, and picked up the pace. There was something about the place that was chilling, but maybe that was just him. It was deserted and destroyed, after all, but he couldn't shake the sensation of the ghosts of those long-gone hovering around the desecrated buildings. His stomach did a somersault when he caught Lance giving him a worried look, but he ignored it. It was probably because he had skipped breakfast (or the first meal of the day or whatever because days and nights didn't even exist anymore) before they had headed to answer the SOS signal._ _

__When the back of his neck prickled and he felt that eerie sensation again, it took him about thirty seconds to realize it was a trap._ _

__Lance was still standing a good six feet away, but Keith's, um, different vision managed to pick out something odd in the placement of the pebbles and debris around his feet. It took him another two seconds to dive towards Lance, knocking him off his feet._ _

__"Hey, what the-"_ _

__"Get down," Keith hissed into his ear, his breath warm across Lance's face._ _

__Allura's voice crackled into their ears, panicky and rushed. _"Paladins, the castle has been attacked, you need to get there imm--"_ Her voice abruptly cut off._ _

__There was that brief pause where realization dawned upon them that something was going to go very, very wrong._ _

__And then the world around them went up in static, crashes, dirt, and searing heat._ _

__._ _

__._ _

__._ _

__Lance knew he was on the ground, that was for certain._ _

__He came to consciousness with his cheek pressed against rubble, dirt in his eyes, and something white, black, and purple some distance away. For a while, he lay there, just feeling how sore his body was, but anxiety set in when it registered. He crawled toward the person, panic climbing up his throat._ _

__"Keith!"_ _

__Keith groaned and rolled over, and Lance could just make out indigo eyes from behind the curtain of black._ _

__"We got blown up again, didn't we?"_ _

__Chuckles bubbled up in his throat, but Lance was interrupted by Shiro's panicked voice._ _

___"Paladins, do you copy? Everyone sound off."_ _ _

___"Fucking ow_ ," said Pidge's voice._ _

___"Same_ ," Hunk's voice crackled._ _

__"Lance and I are in one piece," Keith informed into his earpiece._ _

__"I don't know about you, but I feel like I'm in fifteen pieces right now," Lance remarked, crawling to his feet and stretching his head skyward. His wrists and ankles were sore, and his right cheek under his helmet was warm and sticky with blood. It'd better not scar, or he'd have something to say to the Galra for indirectly blemishing his flawless skin._ _

__Keith gave him an amused glance before turning around._ _

__"Should we head back to the lions?"_ _

___"I'm assuming the castle was attacked, so yes."_ Shiro sounded worried. _"We need to see if Allura and Coran have a visual, and take out whatever this threat is before it takes us out. Are everyone's lions working?"__ _

___"Red isn't."_ _ _

___"Yeah, nor is Yellow."_ _ _

___"Okay, then. Keith, you're with Lance. Pidge, take Hunk. We'll meet in the air."_ _ _

__The lions were parked in different places. The bigger lions--blue, black, and yellow were scattered across the dunes. Red and green were somewhere behind them, right where they'd landed. It took some time for Lance and Keith to blunder their way to Blue, mainly because both of them had just been knocked out._ _

__Lance felt Keith hovering behind him in Blue's cockpit as the display powered up and bright blue light illuminated the small space on all sides. Keith gripped the back of Lance's chair as the lion took off into the planet's dull atmosphere._ _

__"What's the status?" Keith asked, leaning over to the comms. "You guys here?"_ _

___"Yep_ ," Hunk answered. " _Pidge and I are present."__ _

___"Head to the castle, on me."_ _ _

__The green and blue lion followed Shiro's order and fell into formation behind Black. Lance subtly leaned away when Keith bent over his shoulder, squinting through the front view window. Hopefully, he wouldn't see the blush spattered over Lance's cheeks._ _

__Or maybe he did but woefully misread the situation as usual._ _

__"Is it just me or is that cloaking?"_ _

__Lance leaned forward as well, blinking and trying to see what Keith was pointing at. "Whatever you're pointing at is like a hundred meters away, dude, you can't be able to see that."_ _

__"Galra DNA."_ _

__Right. That._ _

__What an awkward topic. It would make a great story for parties, though. Although Keith didn't look like the sort of person who partied. Maybe Lance could take him to one when they'd seen off all the Galra to the gates of hell._ _

__His inner monologue was veering off topic again. Lance blinked and rubbed his eyes. Too late, he realized that what Keith was frowning at was indeed cloaking._ _

__Blue screeched into Lance's mental space as the entire ship shook and they were thrown around like rag dolls. Well, Keith was. He had crashed into the exit doors of the cockpit. Ouch._ _

__"Keith!"_ _

__"Minefield," Keith grunted, lifting himself off the ground and slipping on his Marmoran mask. Lance almost yelped when he saw the creepy purple-and-black face mask, with its eerie indigo lights that probably matched Keith's eyes, which was maddening._ _

__"What are those?" Pidge yelled over the comms._ _

__"Is everyone okay?" Shiro called._ _

__"Keith got banged up a bit, but he's fine," Lance said, throwing Keith a look. "He's gonna hold on tight and not talk into my ear, _right Keith?"__ _

__Keith glowered at him before lowering himself into the emergency carrier and strapping himself in. When another mine went off and the lion shook again, Lance growled under his breath. Keith snorted when he heard him muttering numerous Spanish profanities under his breath._ _

__" _Pendejos_ ," he grumbled, and shoved the levers forward. "Can't we go _one fucking day_ without being _fucking blown up_ by the Galra like the _fucking idiots_ they are, present company excepted, huh? Is that too fucking much to ask? Do I have to come down there and beat your bitch-ass motherfucking furry asses so you learn to keep your kitty paws to yourself?"_ _

__Keith stifled a chuckle. A mad Lance was a hilarious Lance._ _

__Lance cast him a briefly surprised look before he turned around again, insides tingling. He made Keith laugh. Keith laughed because of him. Not at him. Because of him letting out a string of curses that would have earned him several smacks with the chancla if his mother could hear him._ _

__It was a nice feeling._ _

__"Maybe we can freeze the mines," Pidge suggested. "Use your freeze ray or something, so then we could push through them while they're immobile."_ _

__"With luck, that might work." Shiro sounded doubtful, but hey, Lance was the king of winging it on nearly zero percent chance. His homework assignments could testify to that._ _

__"Roger that." He shoved his bayard into the slot provided and twisted. When the freeze ray powered up, he fired (well, more like iced) the air in front of him with wild abandon. Small spherical bombs hovered in air, suspended by their mechanisms and frozen in ice. Keith whistled from behind him and Lance smugly guided the lion forward, through the field of frozen mines._ _

__"Take that, you little--" Pidge whooped._ _

__"Pidge." Shiro looked amused, but sounded exasperated. "Mind your language."_ _

__"Sorry, sorry."_ _

__Lance guided the lion forward to where he could see Black and Green converged, and out of the corner of his eye, saw Keith frowning at his toes. He switched off outgoing comms, making sure that the other paladins couldn't hear them._ _

__"Hey, space cowboy, you good?"_ _

__Lance watched Keith carefully, and got the reaction he knew he would. Keith crossed his arms over his chest defensively, the right index finger tapping out The Final Countdown on his left bicep, which, objectively, was attractive as hell._ _

__"What makes you think I'm not?" His voice was rough, and going by the way he averted his eyes, he was not as 'good' as he said he was._ _

__"You haven't made eye contact since you found that sock." Since you realized that children had been killed._ _

__Keith huffed and uncrossed his arms. "It's nothing that should bother you, Lance."_ _

__"But it bothers me," Lance insisted, knowing that he was pushing it, but god knew that he needed to be pushed once in a while and not skated around every time they approached a delicate topic._ _

__Keith examined his fingernails through the stupid-ass finger-less gloves he wore. "It-It's just--nothing. It's nothing."_ _

__"Keith."_ _

__"Lance."_ _

__Obviously, it turned into a staring competition. Bright blue eyes met indigo over the comms board, but Lance had experience. First with his siblings, who were stubborn as heck, and then with Keith, who was also stubborn as heck._ _

__Keith broke first, and Lance blinked thankfully. He ran a hand through his bangs, making them fluff up and hide his eyes (and emotions) from sight._ _

__"Two years ago, we found the blue lion," His voice was rough again. "And we landed up in this crazy-ass world with Alteans and purple aliens who want to kill us, and I'm part purple alien."_ _

__He gave a short, bitter laugh._ _

__"I think that, wow, this is some kind of different reality, I can't believe we're alive. And then I see shit like this, and I realize that nope, the world is still exactly the same. People will still kill and ravage and burn, just like humans, and innocent people lose their lives over some power-hungry asshole who doesn't know when to stop and--it's just such a fucking waste of lives. Why even bother, you know? They're gonna die anyway. The Galra are gonna continue to kill their way to the ends of the universe. Savagery is going to exist. What difference do we, the good guys, make in this world?"_ _

__He looked so small as he wrapped his arms around himself. Lance was tempted to just dive at him and hug him, but he had to fly the dumb ship. It sounded like Keith was done venting anyway. To be honest, Lance was stunned. That was probably--scratch that, it was definitely the first time he'd heard Keith say so many words consecutively, and probably their longest conversation yet. He didn't know how to react at all._ _

__Lance had been a chaser, ever since he was little. He chased after dreams, after crabs crawling across the pale white sands of Varadero beach. Then, when he grew older, he chased after girls and boys alike, and then after good grades, self-esteem, confidence, friends, all the things a teenager needed. He chased after his rival, Keith Kogane, in an effort to prove he was a better pilot. He chased after his hero, Takashi Shirogane, all the way to the Blue Lion, and then he chased the Galra._ _

__So far, he never caught what he chased._ _

__Keith had always been so grounded, so _serious_ , always the one with his head screwed on straight (after Shiro) except when his temper rose. Keith, who never showed his emotions. Keith, who never goofed around. Keith, who was ultimately the better fighter pilot and close combat specialization. Keith, the leader of the team._ _

__Never: Keith, who poured out his heart in two minutes._ _

__It was like he was seeing a completely different Keith. A Keith who let his guard down, who showed how disturbed he was, maybe even cried about some things. The real Keith._ _

__And Lance couldn't deal with the fact that he finally caught what he was chasing._ _

__"Is this about your father?" He winced as soon as he said the words. Keith stiffened, and that vulnerable moment passed._ _

__"Yes, Lance. I'm projecting my dumb worries about my dead dad because I'm just a weenie who can't deal with his emo-ness." His voice was dripping with sarcasm._ _

__"No, no! That's not what I meant!" Lance cursed at his own tactlessness. "I meant that, uh, your dad died in a fire, right? It-it must have been hard for you to see the planet burnt to the ground because of the same thing that killed your father."_ _

__Keith relaxed visibly, his shoulders slumped, and his scowl vanished. "Yeah," he admitted, picking at his nails. "It was."_ _

__They sat there in silence for a while._ _

__"Hey, mullet." Lance reached a hand behind him and groped until he found Keith's knee and patted it. His heart was already doing backflips behind his ribs, so he didn't look back. "It's gonna be okay. I can promise you that."_ _

__Keith's gaze softened as he stared at the back of Lance's head._ _

__"I hope so."_ _

__._ _

__._ _

__._ _

__"Echo!"_ _

__The sound bounced off the walls of the empty corridor. Lance turned around to grin sheepishly at Keith, who rolled his eyes._ _

__"Real original, Lance."_ _

__He didn't even know he got stuck with his grumpiest (but prettiest) teammate. It had started with Shiro, whom Lance suspected knew how fast (or could probably hear) Lance's heart beat whenever Keith said something that could be construed as remotely nice. The bastard had paired him and Keith, Pidge and Hunk, and was now currently crawling through the gigantic Altean vents like the excellent leader he was._ _

__And anyway, they were scouting the radio-silent castle to check for threats. Allura and Coran, luckily, were monitoring from a remote planet base, so they had the castle to themselves. Even though part of it had been blown away by some external Galra threat, the paladins had split up and were methodically combing through the countless corridors for enemy soldiers._ _

__So far, no luck._ _

__"Hey, Keith," Lance called. "If we find automatons, you think we can hack one to get them on our side?"_ _

__Keith, now flattened against the opposite wall and peeking around the corner, sighed. "I don't think that's good idea, Lance. We're here to remove threats, not have fun."_ _

__Lance scoffed. This was exactly the thing about Keith that put his back up. Admittedly, he did take things a little too easy, but it was part of the signature McClain charm! Keith was so dang stuck-up and aloof all the time, and he expected everyone to be like that. It was annoying. He was constantly torn between exasperation at Keith's dumb attitude and Keith's dumb face._ _

__And his mullet. And his stupidly attractive eyes._ _

__Point being, Lance's heart found Keith beautiful, but his mind thought him intolerable. Everyone knew how bad Lance was when it came to choosing between his heart and his mind. He was doomed. Keith was doomed. They were all doomed._ _

__"Lance."_ _

__He snapped back to attention and looked at Keith's exasperated face. "Huh, what? I was totally listening to every single word you were saying."_ _

__"Then tell me what I just said."_ _

__"I-you--are you saying I'm a liar, huh? Are you insinuating that I wasn't completely paying attention?"_ _

__"That is what I'm doing, yes."_ _

__"Then you're right." One of the few times he verbally admitted that. "Do it over, from the top, with feeling."_ _

__"Guys, could you stop bickering like an old married couple and actually scout?" Pidge asked,sounding equal parts grossed-out and exasperated. "You can argue when we're sure there aren't any Galra left."_ _

__Keith's lips thinned into a line and the humorous twinkle in his eye dimmed. He turned around again, switching off his comms and raising his knife, all business, and Lance groaned to himself. But his frustration quickly vanished when he heard thumping footsteps at the end of the corridor that certainly did not belong to any of his friends. He knew the gait of all his teammates by now--Keith's was silent, weightless and lightning-fast. Pidge dragged her feet. Hunk bounced. Shiro walked with assurance and purpose in every step. These were thick, clumping footsteps, accompanied by a gruff, complaining voice._ _

__Keith's mask was still covering his face, so Lance couldn't tell whether he was surprised or not. But he raised a finger to his lips, his hand actually encased in a proper glove (with actual fingers) this time._ _

__"Oh, shit."_ _

__The whisper was soft, but Lance swiveled around to see the guard wasn't where he'd last seen him. Instead, him and his ugly face were making a beeline for Lance, wielding a clunky spear._ _

__Oh shit indeed._ _

__His bayard quickly turned into the rifle he was so used to, and the two paladins ran backward through the corridors as Mr. Whiny and Ugly followed, snarling. Lance quickly gave up trying to hit him and ran after Keith, who was sprinting down the corridors. They heard the Galran soldier's footsteps getting softer and softer as they weaved down unfamiliar hallways, and they finally stopped. Keith spoke first, his voice muffled behind the mask but audible all the same._ _

__"Lance." He put a hand to the visor of Lance's helmet and tilted his head, and Lance's heartbeat skyrocketed. "Are you okay? It looks like you're bleeding under there."_ _

__So the cut was worse than it felt._ _

__That was a new one._ _

__Lance shrugged. "Just a scratch. I'll live." He watched as Keith's lips twitched and he quickly retracted his hand, as if just realizing how close they had stood._ _

__It was a nice feeling, making Keith laugh. He'd done it a few times before._ _

__They had been heading to their rooms after a grueling mission that involved rescuing a bunch of aliens who got themselves stranded on a planet that was essentially an active volcano, and at that point, they had realized that they had something in common. A tentative but comfortable conversation had been struck up, and in a fit of exhaustion, Lance had cracked the driest inside joke. Ruthless. Absolutely arid. He'd been so tired. And Keith--_ _

__had laughed._ _

__Like a full laugh--mouth open, head tilted back, unrestrained chuckles escaping from the column of pale throat rising from his shoulders. It had filled Lance with something warm and pleasant, lighter than air. Keith was laughing with him. Not at him, but because of him._ _

__And now, even though Keith had been wearing gloves, Lance could still feel the lingering sensation of being touched on his shoulder, ghostly warmth still remaining._ _

__Ugh, he was so screwed._ _

__"Lance, come on." Keith beckoned to him from down the corridor, right where he was looking up at a vent entrance. "This should lead us to a hangar."_ _

__"Not the best move to get ourselves stuck in a small space where we can be easily blown up," Lance remarked._ _

__"True," Keith conceded. "But we're gonna assume that Pidge, Hunk, and Shiro are where they need to be, and there's no other way to get to the hangar anyway."_ _

__Lance hefted his rifle with a manic grin. "Lead the way then, space cowboy."_ _

__._ _

__._ _

__._ _

__It was a shit show as soon as they exited the vent. The ugly soldier from before had somehow known where they were going to exit, and had rallied the troops around them. Sure, they had been in stickier positions than this where there was a ninety percent chance of death, but they were never so woefully unprepared. Nevertheless, Lance liked to think they gave as good as they got._ _

__It wasn't as bad a situation that they had to go back-to-back, thank fuck, but they jumped into their assigned roles with a nonverbal agreement. Keith darted forward, cutting down automatons in swathes with his Marmora knife that had suddenly become a sword when Lance wasn't looking, an indigo blur amid the rest of the Galra soldiers. Lance's own bayard became a cannon-grade blaster instead of his usual rifle, mainly because he didn't have the luxury of aiming or sniping from above. All he could do was fire at the relentless soldiers with wild abandon and try not hit to Keith, who was moving too fast for his own good._ _

__He dodged as a purple arc of light shot past him, feeling the heat as it grazed his suit. He moved past another shot just as quickly, attempting to focus on the moronic soldier that had a target on his back. A glance ahead told him that Keith was facing similar difficulties, and was fighting with both his double-edged bayard sword and his Marmora blade like the ambidextrous show-off he was. Lance slowly backed down the corridor, observing Keith do the same from the corner of his eye, and realized that the solders were herding them to an intersection where they would be slaughtered._ _

__They didn't stand a chance._ _

__"To your six!" Keith shouted, and Lance spun around to shoot a soldier just as it raised a cutlass._ _

__"Thanks!" he yelled, over the sound of blasters._ _

__Keith didn't reply, instead he rolled under the spread legs of a robot and drove his sword upward, neatly slicing it in half. The advantage about automatons was that while they were rather sturdier and harder to cut down than regular soldiers, they didn't leave a mess of purple blood if say, a bayard was driven through their midsection. No fuss involved when it came to machines, that was for sure. It was easier to chop them down if you knew the right technique and exactly where to hit them._ _

__He sliced through another four automatons and turned to look at Lance, struggling to defeat a Galra soldier who seemed to thirst for blue paladin blood. Despite the tight situation, Lance's expression was satisfied (but also a little panicked) as he aimed wildly for the soldier, and the anemic blue light shining on his brown skin was enough to throw Keith off for a millisecond. A wicked leer curved over the face of another soldier sneaking up behind Lance as he hefted a spear with a serrated edge of what looked like alien blood crusted over it._ _

___Pause._ _ _

__Lance, the blue paladin._ _

__Lance, his self-proclaimed rival and the emotional support system of the team. Lance, the lovable goofball. Lance, the boy who loved rain and music, who watched the stars at night. Lance, the actually-really-observant kid with a giant family, with endless love and affection, with quips for every occasion._ _

___Lance._ _ _

__There was a split-second pocket in time where Keith's mind raced to connect the dots, and another moment when he knew exactly what he had to do._ _

__The automatons around him became a grey and pink blur, and Keith moved faster than he ever thought he could. The soldier raised his spear, and he dived over Lance's back just as the soldier let it fly._ _

___Resume._ _ _

__It felt like being punched in the gut really hard. Like, harder-than-he-hit-James-Griffin-when-he-was-thirteen hard, but with a million times more pressure. The pain didn't hit at once, but Keith fumbled at the wooden end of the spear, as if clawing feebly at it would reverse the fact that he had just been skewered like a bug on a toothpick. The blood welled up only two seconds later, dark and thick around the wound as it slithered down his waist and dripped onto the floor._ _

__(At least he wasn't wearing his paladin armor. Those bloodstains would've been a bitch to scrub out.)_ _

__Keith was barely aware of the fact that the spear had come out on the other side of his body, nor did he see when Lance ducked, and the shot that he dodged hit the soldier who attacked him. Without anything holding him up, Keith's knees buckled and his vision tilted sideways. He could hear someone yelling for him, but it sounded distant. Unreachable. Far-off._ _

__He was detached from it. Detached from everything--existence, hearing, seeing, feeling. It was like everything was indeed happening around him, the battle was going on without him, but he was looking at it through muddy water. Like he'd been dunked into a stream and was viewing all the goings-on through a liquid lens._ _

__He could hear screams of pure unrestrained fury, something that he'd never heard before and certainly not from any of his teammates. When he tilted his head up, he saw Lance's face, twisted in rage and something ferocious and savage and _feral_ , like he would rip at the soldiers with his teeth and nails if he had to. Then the noise stopped, and the shouting halted, and his ears were left ringing with the ghosts of blasters firing and the echoes of metal grating upon metal._ _

__He blinked, and suddenly Lance was crouched in front of him, tears streaming down his face. He'd taken off his helmet--now that was a surprise. Had Keith been out for that long? Had Lance really defeated troops of automatons and soldiers in his wrath?_ _

__It took him some time to realize that Lance was saying his name over and over again, as if the short monosyllabic word would do something other than fill the silence._ _

__"Keith." It was mumbled through tears. Lance cradled Keith's dark head in his lap, tears sliding off his nose and dripping onto Keith's face. "No, no, no, no. Stay with me, buddy. Stay right here."_ _

__Of course he would stay with Lance, what was he, a deserter?_ _

__Keith snorted to himself when he remembered the fact that he'd been booted from the Garrison had lived in the desert for a year until he found Shiro. Pun totally intended._ _

__He lifted a hand and brushed it against the side of his head so the mask covering his face disappeared._ _

__"Hey," Keith croaked, mainly because it seemed like he should say something. He couldn't feel the pain anymore, and that was both good and bad. "I hate to admit it, but you did great." His voice sounded hoarser than usual, and it was cracking. Second puberty, maybe. Perhaps it would bring that longed-for growth spurt, and he wouldn't be the second shortest on the team anymore._ _

__"Why would you do something so fucking stupid?" Lance asked desperately, holding Keith tighter. He sounded--and looked--completely wrecked. "That wasn't necessary. Not at all." It was getting harder and harder to see through the film of tears coating Lance's eyes._ _

__Now, even his thoughts were getting slower, moving through his brain like honey._ _

__Keith coughed, and a dribble of blood slipped down the edge of his mouth. "One thing about the Blade of Marmora," he murmured. "It was every man for himself, because they couldn't afford to lose soldiers. I got yelled at every time I tried to save Regris, because he was a reckless idiot."_ _

__"Sounds like someone I know," Lance choked out through a shaky smile. Keith snorted through a haze of darkness and a mouthful of blood._ _

__"I missed the team feeling of self-sacrifice, you know? Everyone in this team would give their lives to save another, and--and I would give my life for you." He inhaled a wobbly breath, and god, was it just him, or was he getting sappier by the minute? "You have ever-everything to lose, and I have nothing."_ _

__"Don't say that," Lance gritted out, though he knew it was no use. Keith's eyelids were flickering shut and the energy was draining out of his eyes as they spoke._ _

__"Don't tell me what to do," Keith muttered, trying not to let his words slur but it happened anyway. "Sharpshooter. You have a home to get back to, and I just have Earth. There's nothing there. You have a family and Varadero beach and garlic knots to eat. I have a grave to visit. No-nothing that I'll miss."_ _

__Lance pulled him closer until Keith was pressed against his chest, almost holding him in his lap. His tears slowly dripped into Keith's hair, wetting the dark strands. They sat there in the silence of the halls strewn with dead soldiers and crackling automaton parts, waiting out their limited time. Lance's sobs were catching in his throat as he fumbled to turn on his comms from around Keith._ _

__All his life, Keith had heard his name said in different ways. His dad had said it with fondness. At the children's home, it was said with wariness. At the Garrison, it was said with disgust and apprehension. By Shiro, with trust dripping off every letter. His mother, with love. By his teammates, with exasperation at his hotheadedness and frustration at his single-minded tendencies._ _

__He'd never heard it the way it came from Lance's lips, with regret and affection and sorrow and crippling grief stuffed into a tiny name that was overflowing with emotion._ _

__It was almost too much to handle._ _

__Keith took another shuddering breath. "Funny thing, I never thought I'd live long enough to get old, you know? I-I was right."_ _

__It was a bittersweet moment. He was a wild kid, right from when he got his hands on the flying stick. Bursting with energy and ripping at the seams from sadness, it was almost guaranteed that one day he would fall apart. The fire that burned inside him was temperamental. He was designed like a match--to burn for a short period of time and then fizzle out. The flame inside him was short and strong, but short was the keyword. He wasn't meant to sustain or last, and he knew that._ _

__His fire had finally burnt itself out._ _

__"Shut up," Lance whispered, voice strained. "You asshole. You're not dying in my arms, alright? I remember the bonding moment. This can't be your revenge."_ _

__Keith could hear Red purring softly in the corners of his mind. _Patience yields focus, cadet,_ a feminine voice said. A strong, hoarse voice that reminded him of his mother--raw, but filled with familiarity, reassurance, and something comforting. It wrapped him in a blanket of calmness, something Keith had never possessed._ _

__He had been patient. He had focused._ _

__It was time for the stormy waters to still, and the raging fires to die out._ _


	2. Scars of the past

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith's still feeling a little out of place. Lance helps him regain his footing.

When Lance was four, his abuelo died.

Being so little, the memories were hazy. All he remembered about his grandpa were wrinkled brown hands, strong despite how thin they were, and a reassuring smile that was the epitome of everything is going to be okay. As a toddler, he didn't understand why everyone looked so sad all the time--why his mother cried into abuelo's battered silver watch, why his abuelita's lips quivered when she was alone, why his aunts and uncles looked so subdued. For once, his noisy family (the presence of sound conveyed the degrees of happiness) was silent, and the house had echoed with that feeling of absence, of something being missing.

The funeral had been a solemn affair. Lance had been stuffed into a black dress shirt and pants, and he and his family had stood in the cemetery in front of a marble gravestone while it rained, as his abuelita and mother placed white lilies on his grandfather's grave.

He'd learned later, through various discussions with his mother and grandmother, but those conversations had conveyed only a ghostly remnant of the pain they'd felt on the actual day.

Now, he was feeling it first-hand, and so was the rest of the team.

Shiro looked the most affected, being basically Keith's brother. He had rings under his eyes and although he didn't really speak of the fact that Keith was encased in a healing pod until further notice, they could all see the shadows behind his eyes. Nobody brought it up and he didn't say it either, but every so often they would catch him blankly staring at a mundane object, looking but not quite seeing.

Pidge was quieter and more withdrawn. Hunk usually had to force-feed her into eating her food goo, and she disappeared more and more into her tech-filled world. Sometimes, they couldn't even tell who she was behind those huge glasses and baggy shirts she vanished into.

Hunk himself constantly seemed to forget that Keith was healing (dying?) behind translucent blue glass and kept making references and jokes like, 'oh, Keith would love this' or 'Heh, sounds like Keith' until he remembered, then clamming up until someone changed the subject.

Allura was in denial. She skated around the subject and went stiff every time someone referred to anything close to the red lion, the red paladin, the 'guy in the red jacket' (as referred to by an ally) or the Blade of Marmora.

Coran recounted stories less and less, lapsing into quiet moments when he would remember things about the lives of the past paladins and the dangers posed to them. He would snap to attention and begin rambling as soon as someone asked him something, but his heart wasn't in it.

And Lance?

Lance was haunted by the sheer panic and fear he'd felt when he had turned around and seen Keith crumple, fumbling at a spear protruding from his midsection. He would wake up at night, heart racing and adrenaline pumping through his veins as memories flashed through his mind and he desperately tried to tamp them down. Thoughts like 'what if he never wakes up' or 'what if healing pods can't heal him' intruded upon his daily activities, and often, training with the gladiator was the only thing to get his mind even remotely off it.

**[ five days ago ]**

"Dammit, Keith, stay with me."

Lance fumbled desperately at his wrist controls as Keith's eyelids fluttered shut and he murmured something incomprehensible. He managed to find the button that turned on outgoing comms, despite the fact that his wet hands left bloody prints all over his suit, and swore shakily under his breath.

"Hello, can anyone hear me? Paladins, please respond! Shiro, come in!"

"Lance, is everything okay?"

For once, Shiro's voice did nothing to ease his fear.

"Shiro." His voice came out wobbly, and Lance had to swallow thickly before speaking. "Keith-Keith's down. It's bad. _He took a fucking spear to the stomach, Shiro_."

Silence. Then:

"Oh my god. He-where are you two? Do you have him?"

"I have him." An audible sob escaped his lips. "He's dying, Shiro."

"No. No, that's not gonna happen. We're not going to let that happen." Even though his voice was decisive, there was a tremble to it that suggested that Shiro wasn't as sure as he sounded. "We can't. Send me your location and Hunk and I will come."

Another sob, another sniffle. Lance clicked a few more buttons and could hear someone fumbling and cursing until he sent his leader their location.

"East wing." Shiro's voice was echoing. "We're coming. Hang tight, you two."

Waiting had felt like agony. Lance had to sit there and hold Keith's still body in his arms, praying that maybe, just maybe, they would be in time. He called out when he heard footsteps, beyond caring at this point whether it was his teammates or enemy soldiers.

Shiro rounded the corner and and immediately burst into a sprint when he registered the pool of blood that the two paladins were laying in. When Hunk came around, it was apparent that he had expected something much milder, and the urgency was showing on his face.

"Keith, oh my god." Shiro was beyond appalled, crossing the line into outright scared when he saw Keith's still figure and the metal rod that passed clean through him, back to front. He brushed the hair off Keith's relaxed face and lifted him up gently but urgently. Hunk helped Lance up, but continued to cast panicked looks towards Keith in Shiro's arms.

"How did this happen?" Hunk asked as they limped through the empty hallways towards the hangar.

"He saved my life," Lance whispered. "It was meant for me, and he threw himself in front of it."

Hunk's horrified expression had conveyed enough.

When they reached the hangar, Pidge did a double-take when she saw Shiro carrying Keith, both their suits stained with blood still dripping down their limbs. She went paper-white, the screwdriver in her hands clattering to the floor.

"No!"

It was a strangled sound--a reflexive action to the scene before her. Keith was supposed to be indestructible, like Shiro. He wasn't meant to look drained and limp in his brother's arms.

Hunk wordlessly prepared a pod. Shiro tried to tug away the garments wrapped around Keith before chopping the spear off on both sides, then extracting the remaining with a horrible squelching noise. All four of them flinched at the sound, but didn't say anything. Their faces were drawn and haggard with shock.

They had one mission, and one mission only: save their friend. No ifs or buts.

When Keith was safely encased in the pod and the castle had been fixed up as much as it could, Lance looked over and saw Shiro sitting at the foot of the pod, head in his hands. He hadn't even bothered to wash the blood off. None of them had.

"Shiro?"

Lance could've gone his whole life without having to see his leader cry.

Shiro's eyes were red and glassy, tears silently sliding down his smooth cheeks and dripping off his chin. He didn't answer Lance, instead folded his hands, placing them at his mouth, and squeezed his eyes shut.

Pidge walked over and curled up next to him, placing a hand on his knee. Hunk wrapped one arm around Lance and draped the other across Shiro's shoulders as he leaned against the pod's glass.

"I'm so sorry," he muttered into his fingers. "I can't-I couldn't--"

"It's gonna be okay," Pidge mumbled thickly into Shiro's shoulder. "He's gonna be okay." She sounded like she was telling herself. Shiro buried his head in his hands again, shoulders shaking violently as he tried to get a grip on himself.

They had just managed to collectively calm down when Allura and Coran rushed in, still in the fancy outfits Coran liked to call their 'diplomatic wear.' Allura stopped short when she saw the team gathered at one pod in particular, but Coran walked straight to the glass.

"What happened?"

Everyone but Shiro looked to Lance, whose stomach churned with fear and apprehension. Hunk squeezed his knee.

The smartest way to start would be from the beginning, so that was where he would start. He took a deep breath and began:

"When we reached the castle, we were sneaking around the corridors and scouting. A Galra soldier spotted us, but we lost him after some running. Keith suggested the vents, so we crawled through the vents and dropped into the hallway leading to the detainment room, but the soldier had prepared troops. I mean, we've been in worse situations before, but we weren't caught off guard at the time."

"Lance," Allura said calmly, despite looking stricken. "Breathe."

He swallowed, wincing as his dry throat protested in pain.

"We were just about managing until another guy sneaked up behind me, I think. Keith was a few yards away, but-but I guess he saw the guy before I did. I-I don't know, I-by the time I turned around, the soldier was dead and Keith had-Keith had a--"

His voice trailed away. Everyone knew what he had meant to say, though.

"I'm gonna go get some air," Shiro said abruptly, his voice suddenly devoid of any emotion. Pidge and Hunk slid off him as he rose, not looking at the scarlet stains on his suit, and clanked out of the room.

**[ present time ]**

Lance parried the gladiator's thrusts with the Altean broadsword his bayard would now become every time he touched it.

"End training sequence twenty-two."

Training was now the only thing that would occupy him, if it couldn't take his mind off things. The gladiator wouldn't ask prying questions like Allura or Coran would, nor did it seem to constantly zone out like the rest of his teammates. Though the same could be said for him.

Keith would've been so much better to train close combat with than the gladiator.

Not the moment, Lance. Not the fucking moment.

He wiped his face with his shirt and rolled up the sleeves, the jacket long tossed to the side. His sword turned back into the bayard, and he contemplated it for a moment before placing it aside. It was a funny thing, actually. An incapacitated Keith meant no more clanging of metal from the training room, because none of the other paladins had swords.

Except Lance.

It had changed during a previous training session with drones, and he had stared at it in his hands and then dropped it like it had burned him. He had mistaken it for Keith's sword, but Allura assured him that it was a broadsword because Lance was improving in character and fighting style.

Still. Every time he looked at it, unwelcome thoughts intruded into his brain. He was replacing the red paladin. His lion said that. His bayard thought that. Not that he had a problem with replacing anyone, because hey, that was how his understanding of linear time worked. No, no. Replacing Keith because the rest of the team _had given him up for dead_ was Lance's problem.

They never said it out loud, any of them, but none of them spoke about 'when Keith wakes up' or 'when he's alright'. Not even Hunk.

Keith would come back. He had to. He was the red paladin. They couldn't go anywhere without him, and neither Shiro, Pidge, or Lance would budge until they had an answer.

He was jolted out of his daydream when the alarm blared, bathing the entire room in red.

"Paladins!" So it was Allura. "Please come to the detainment room, we have an emergency!"

The detainment room contained the healing pods.

Lance dropped his bayard, ignoring how it clattered on the floor as he sprinted out of the room. His heart thumped alarmingly against his ribs as he skidded around corners and finally arrived at the entrance of the room. The other paladins were already congregated there, and Lance wheezed, holding up a hand when Pidge looked at him questioningly.

"Training." It was on the opposite side of the castle.

Coran was already furiously tapping away at the controls at the side of the pod, and Allura and the rest were anxiously waiting for a verdict.

"What's wrong?" Pidge asked.

"The healing pods send out an alert if the occupant's heart stops," Allura said quietly. "Keith's heart stopped."

Lance stared at her. "Isn't there any way to restart it? Defibrillator? An electrocution?" He was grasping at straws here.

Allura avoided his eyes and turned to Coran. "Coran's trying to override it manually and get the pod to open so we can proceed with emergency measures, but-but it appears that pods don't open if the occupant is dead."

It was clear what she was trying to say. In the event of an occupant dying, the pod became a coffin. It would cryogenically preserve the body until it could be given a proper funeral.

A thick, dead silence hung in the air.

They all jumped when Lance slammed his fist against the glass, feeling it shake under his touch. His features were contorted into an expression of stubbornness, determination, and pain.

"No." He had never thought he'd be the type of person to command attention of a single person, let alone that of all the people in a room. "No. He saved my life. I'm not giving up unless I have a clear indication that Keith is dead."

It was as if a switch had been flipped. Allura stood aside as Hunk, Pidge, and Coran muttered over the control pad, Shiro stood waiting for the glass to slide open, and Lance tapped his foot against the floor.

_Swish._

Keith had been in the pod for five days, but his muscle mass hadn't decreased a bit. If anything, his face was thinner and unnaturally pale due to blood loss, but nothing about him had changed. Without the glass holding him up, he tumbled straight into Shiro, who managed to catch him before he hit the ground. His eyes were closed, features as tranquil as they could possibly be, dark hair mussed. Shiro laid him on the floor as quickly as possible as Allura rushed over.

Her hands ignited with the glow of Altean quintessence, and she placed her hands on Keith's chest.

Nothing.

Lance pushed her out of the way when she raised her teary eyes to him, and crouched by Keith. He placed the heels of his hands right over where Keith's heart would be, giving rhythmic chest compressions. There was no hesitation when he bent down to place his lips to Keith's cold ones and give rescue breaths. When he was gasping for air, he motioned for Shiro to do the same.

"Nothing's working," Pidge murmured, tears dripping down her cheeks. "Lance."

"No." Lance's mind had no space for logic. "I'm not giving up yet. If he hadn't dived in front of me, you would've been giving _me_ CPR. Would you have given up?"

She cringed away.

More chest compressions. More pumps. More breaths. Lance, then Shiro, then Lance again.

"Come on come on come on _come on_."

Keith's chest rose slightly. A cough came from his mouth, and then Lance could feel his heart beating steadily under his fingers in time to the heavy breaths he was taking. His eyelids cracked open and dark blue eyes stared up at them. His lips twitched. Another cough.

"Missed me, did you?"

Shiro let loose a string of Japanese words (that didn't sound very polite) that had the rest of the team giving him wide-eyed looks and Keith hacking out a laugh.

"I can't believe it," Pidge mumbled, then sat back on her knees and inhaled deeply. "You're alright."

"That I am," Keith confirmed, then seemed to realize that Lance's palm was still flat against his chest. He looked at Lance with something unreadable in his eyes. Lance removed his hand instantly, feeling his face heat up. Jesus, did Keith _have_ to hit him with that soft look every time or did he need to make his life insurance plan bulkier?

Here lies Lance McClain. Death by mullet.

"You asshole."

Keith's expression morphed into one of surprise, and then his lips tilted into the tiniest of smiles as Lance crushed him in an embrace. When they pulled apart again, he pretended not to see the blush spattered over Lance's freckled cheeks and looked at the team gathered around him.

"Why do you all look so sad? You look like you've been crying."

"That's because we have, dimwit," Pidge drawled, elbowing him. "Shiro cried. Hunk cried, he always does. Lance cried. Allura and Coran cried. I fucking bawled my eyes out."

Lance looked at Keith, who suddenly looked very unsure. There was something forlorn about him, something very real and genuine and young. He looked lost. He seemed surprised that the paladins had ever even noticed his absence, as if he thought they would've just dismissed his life as yet another in the war among billions and moved on. As if he wasn't worthy of shedding tears over.

"You thought we wouldn't miss you?" Shiro asked, humor tinting his tone. "It's good to have you back."

"It's good to be back," Keith said immediately, the response way too prompt to be anything but an inside joke. They exchanged wry grins before Hunk helped Keith to his feet.

"You should get some rest, Keith. After all this, you deserve some time off."

The paladins scattered to their respective tasks, finally relieved of their vigil. Lance stopped Keith just as he neared the door.

"Hey, uh, thanks."

Keith looked at him for a second, nonplussed, and then frowned. "Of course."

Lance stared at him. "Of course?" His stomach did several somersaults.

Keith gave him the tiniest of tiny smiles. "Yeah. Of course I would've done it. Don't thank me." And then he was gone, leaving Lance staring after him with a heart that was beating way too fast for its own good.

.

.

.

Keith examined his reflection in the mirror hanging in the lounge. Instead of looking at his most recent wound--which was no doubt nasty--he was staring at the sideways pink slash across his cheek, all the way to his jawbone. He'd had it for some time now, ever since that horrible battle with Shiro's clone, but he'd never actually taken the time to look at it. It was strange, now that he had gazed long and hard at it. The pale scar tissue (or whatever it was) seemed very out of place on his face, and it tingled every time he touched it, even if it was officially part of his face. He couldn't imagine himself without the scar, come to think of it, but couldn't with the scar either.

Shiro was honestly the only one he could talk to when it came to battle scars. Mostly because both of them had facial scars that permanently altered their appearance. But Keith didn't want to give the details of the battle away to Shiro, who was no doubt smart enough to piece together the shreds of info and would probably spend the next week beating himself up over it. No, he didn't want to see Shiro's guilty expression. Not after everything that had happened.

Keith jerked away from the mirror when Lance strode into the room, feeling ashamed of the fact that he was embarrassed of looking at himself. Why was he, anyway? God knows Lance spent enough time doing the same thing. He had no reason to be ashamed.

"Admiring yourself in the mirror, huh?" he teased playfully. "Aren't you getting a little ahead of yourself?"

Keith snorted, but Lance must have sensed how halfhearted it was, because suddenly he was standing right next to Keith. And by 'right next to', it was real close. Close enough to feel the heat radiating off his body.

Jesus Christ. 

"How did you get that one anyway?" Lance asked, eyes fixed on the scar on the side of Keith's face, but not in the mirror. Keith shrugged noncommittally, trying not to look too bothered by it.

"I-I don't know."

"Lies," Lance stated bluntly. Ah, the upside of having a rival was that said rival knew too much about you. Consequences, meet Keith's disaster of human emotions. "Don't worry, I bet it'll still attract all the hot chicks." The cheeky grin he shot Keith said that Lance definitely knew Keith didn't give a fuck about that, and both of them knew that.

"What a relief." Truly said with the deadest of dead tones. Lance snorted, basking in the familiarity of ribbing and bantering with Keith. It was something he didn't even know he missed it--this comfortable rivalry, the sensation that if nobody got his lame puns and references, Keith would at least snicker and give him points for effort.

Keith turned back to the mirror and gazed at the scar. He would probably never get the memory of that fight of his head, though, just like the scar. Shiro's face, snarling and alight with malice, his eyes, with slit pupils and sickly yellow sclerae.

Yep. Not something most people forgot.

"I'm used to scars, just...not this one. Not yet."

Lance looked at him, eyebrows knitting, and Keith waited for him to say something oozing with the signature Lance McClain idiotic charm. Instead, what he got was a thoughtful look and a tentative, almost scared question.

"Can I see it?"

Keith made a 'go ahead' motion, not really having to think about the answer because hey, the scar was pretty huge anyway. Lance leaned forward, taking Keith's face in his hands. His fingertips were unusually soft--probably his obnoxiously regular skincare routine--and an involuntary shudder went down Keith's spine when Lance brushed his fingers over the rough and bumpy edges of the ridge on his face.

It was just a scar. There was no reason for Lance to want to see it, but Keith trusted him. And there was no reason for him to refuse, but technically, there was no reason for his insides to churn every time Lance moved fractionally closer, too.

Anyways.

Lance's fingers slid down the jagged mark, leaving a trail of fire on Keith's skin, all the way to his jaw. His face was contorted with concentration, almost comically so, as he studied Keith's face like he wanted to memorize every single nook and cranny on it. His own face was close enough that Keith could count his freckles (there were sixteen) and count each and every unfairly-long-and-thick eyelash.

"It looks more like a burn than a cut," he mused. "Gone through only one layer of skin, and cauterized, probably _instantly_. Plasma weapon?"

"Uh huh."

He was being as vague as possible, and judging by the way Lance's eyebrows drew together, he knew it.

"You got this when you went into the wormhole to chase after Shiro, right?" Lance pondered aloud. "I don't remember seeing it when you left, but you had it when you came back, so it must have been..." his eyes snapped to Keith's, suddenly sharp and watchful as Keith averted his own gaze. "Who gave it to you?"

"Nobody," he mumbled, feeling like a third-grader again, but there was no avoiding Lance when he channeled the Older Sibling.

"You're a smart man, Lance. Two paladins went in, and two paladins came out. Which one of them has a literal built-in plasma weapon?"

Keith's jaw clicked shut audibly as he clammed up and went back to studying his feet. Lance blinked, taking a few seconds to register what Keith was indirectly telling him, and Keith could've sworn that Lance's pupils dilated with shock.

"You're saying that Shiro--?"

"He was a clone," Keith cut in swiftly. "Haggar made copies of Shiro, and the one we were, uh, sent was one she was using to spy on us. I-I had to fight him."

Lance blinked again disbelievingly. "A fight or a battle?"

"Go figure," Keith mumbled, and turned back to the mirror, trying to forget how pleasant Lance's touch felt or how he missed the warmth. He sneaked a peek back at Lance, who still looked shell-shocked. "What did you come here for anyways?"

At that, Lance's lips curved up into an eager smile. The change was so abrupt that it was like he almost forgot that they were talking about Keith's almost-death.

"Keith."

Keith turned around to see Lance practically radiating happiness at him.

"We're going home."

Keith's lips moved but no sound came out. He stared dumbly at Lance, who beamed at him. "I-you...we?"

_Don't you mean 'you'?_

"All of us," Lance confirmed, nodding. "God knows we all deserve a break, and it's not anything the Coalition can't handle when we're g--why don't you look happy?" he asked, suddenly suspicious.

Keith forced a smile. "Because it's not really home to me? Where do I go, anyways?"

"Cuba," Lance said instantly, looking surprised that Keith had even questioned his motives. "You're coming to my place, because you just died and came back to life, and my mother can fatten you up properly before we set off again."

Keith stared at him again, his mind racing to keep up. Finally, he realized. Lance. Cuba. Lance's home. Lance's family.

Family.

Happiness.

A smile took over his features like the rays of the sun curving over the horizon, and it nearly knocked Lance down.

"I guess we're going--" a tiny pause. "--home, then."


	3. Shared real estate

There was a ringing in Lance's ears that he was all too familiar with on the battlefield. It reminded him of when a bomb went off too close, or blaster shots just barely missed him by inches. He opened his eyes, not even gasping when he saw the sight. He was in the castle, the hallways dark and illuminated only by the anemic blue glow from his gauntlets and the red one from Keith's. He felt his bayard turn into his blaster in his hands and he aimed it back at the sentries whose shots were zinging off his shield.

It was odd. The whole thing was off. Lance wasn't even consciously paying attention to what he was doing, but somehow, his body knew what to do. His hips swiveled around, his arms aimed, his finger pulled the trigger, everything. But he was tired. He was that type of tired where he got so less sleep that he couldn't even tell whether he was genuinely awake or just zoning out behind hyper-alert autopilot. The time skips probably didn't help his case.

Keith was weaving in and around the soldiers, whipping his Blade sword and bayard sword round and round. The red-and-white blade was moving fast enough to form a peppermint swirl, like one of those candies Lance used to eat for Christmas and then get stuck in his teeth because he was too impatient to just suck it.

And then, another time skip. He was facing that hideous Galra soldier who really wanted to stick a pin in his inane remarks designed to distract the enemy. The soldier raised his blaster; Lance ducked, feeling the heat of the shot as it arced over his helmet and heard a grunt of pain as it hit someone else. He shot the soldier he was facing and turned around.

Keith, oh god, _Keith._

Lance watched with dreadful accuracy as Keith tried to take a step forward but stumbled, one hand clapped around the spear protruding from his midsection. Horror slowly washed over him as blood oozed from the wound, though not as much as it would have if the spear had been removed, and then everything hit him like a truck. Autopilot was gone. Lance threw himself forward just in time for Keith to crumple into his arms, head smacking against the center of his breastplate with a loud thunk.

Oh no. That wasn't good. People were supposed to be able to control their heads.

He didn't register what he was saying, but it seemed to be just one syllable, repeated over and over and over again.

"Keith."

Right, Keith. He'd been skewered with a, um, lance.

Lance suppressed a manic laugh. Trust his sleep-deprived mind to start making puns in the middle of battle. Very real panic and worry and self-hatred hit him in waves as Keith's eyelids fluttered shut, despite begging and pleading with him.

There had to be something about begging. It was probably the most pitiful thing there was, across all species. To hold someone immobile while they cried and pleaded was one thing; to stare at them with absolutely no mercy or any feeling at all was something else. Lance would've begged and bargained with the soldiers if they were alive, or even with the Galra as a whole. But the world was held in the palm of someone who loved to break things. No amount of begging would make Keith open his eyes.

But maybe it could make Lance open his own eyes.

The first thing he noticed was the pitch blackness and the soft mattress he was resting on. Then, hoarse yelling. Keith's name was being shouted over and over again, and it took him some time to realize that it was coming from his throat. Tears were dried to his cheeks, his jaw muscles protesting as he screamed. He barely registered the door to his room sliding open with a swish, and two pairs of thudding footsteps. Semiconscious or not, Lance recognized them. The heavy ones were Shiro's, the lighter one's Keith's. The muffled voices confirmed it. Both of them were light sleepers, and their rooms were closest to Lance's.

Hands gripped Lance's shoulders as the room was flooded with light, and he instinctively recoiled.

"-ance. Lance." Worried indigo eyes stared into his. "Lance, it's just a nightmare."

Tell that to the Keith who died in his arms.

Lance's mind juddered awake, and soon he was able to comprehend that he was looking at an exhausted Keith. He hated himself even more, now. Keith was the one who'd died. Now, he was being woken up for a trivial problem that was basically nothing compared to the trial he'd been through the previous few days.

"Lance," Shiro said gently. "You're in the castle. You're in bed. You're with the paladins of Voltron. You're the blue paladin. Take deep breaths."

He sounded suspiciously well-practiced at this. Maybe Keith had frequent nightmares or panic attacks or whatever.

Keith's hands were still holding Lance as he plunked himself next to him. "What did you see?"

Lance swallowed, guiltily casting him a sideways glance. "Um. You, uh, you died."

He didn't have to say anything else. Shiro's gaze became understanding, Keith's own softening. After all, Keith had been unconscious for most of it other than the pain. It was traumatizing, but he didn't have to watch it happen.

"Do-do you need a hug?" It was a tentative question.

Lance had never heard Keith asking for physical affection before, but he took the chance and lunged forward, completely forgetting that he was bigger than him. Keith might've been more muscled, but Lance had what Pidge called 'long noodle arms and legs'. He was like a squid when it came to hugs. It knocked Keith down into the bed. Arms instantly went around him as well, giving him much-needed body warmth. He smelled like something sweet and peppery, like cinnamon.

Keith's hair was just as soft as Lance had imagined it to be.

Not that he'd fantasized about touching it like some kind of creep, but hey, observations were observations. And he was too tuckered out to even blush at the fact that he and Keith were wrapped around each other.

He heard another swish as Shiro decided they needed alone time and exited after a low 'good night'. Again, no time to blush. Shiro was Keith's brother. Surely he wouldn't be uncomfortable with this.

"I, um, I was dreaming about it too," came Keith's mumble into Lance's shoulder. "Do you mind if I stay here?"

They split apart.

"No, you're not moving." Keith smiled a little at Lance's statement. "Get over here."

Keith cautiously fell into position into the empty space next to Lance, and Lance kicked half the blanket over him. They lay there in silence for a while, each of them listening to the other's steady breathing.

"You know, you don't have to sleep so squished away," Lance whispered finally. "There's enough real estate for both of us."

A small chuckle, then increasing body heat. Keith's legs bonked his knees, and both of them murmured an 'oops' at the same time.

"Hey, Lance?"

"Hm?" Lance mumbled, barely awake. Hot breath ghosted over his right ear.

"We're friends, right? Like, you know I didn't mean any of the things I said before?"

Lance cracked open an eye, just barely able to see the outline of Keith's body in the darkness. "What, you think I give adorable nicknames like 'mullet' to everyone?"

"I thought you didn't like my hair," Keith muttered into his pillow.

"I don't. That's why you get a nickname."

He heard a huffed laugh and a whispered 'good night' before he finally drifted off. There was something comforting about the presence of another person as he slept.

Especially Keith.

. . .

Keith didn't want to leave the warm hollow he'd made on the bed in the morning, but he had to.

It had been a rude awakening. His eyes had snapped open, and he bit back a yelp as he found himself facing Lance. Their faces were way too close--close enough to count his freckles (all sixteen of them) and number his eyelashes. There was a little bit of drool crusting the corner of Lance's mouth, and his face was squashed into the pillow in a way that would give him sleep wrinkles, but it was adorable all the same.

Adorable.

Not a common thought when it came to Keith's teammates. Sure, he thought Pidge was adorable, but that was mainly because she was tiny and had giant brown eyes. Like how you would view a baby animal and call it cute because its body was too small for its head and it probably couldn't walk properly. Hunk was cute as well, in a large, gentle way, like a panda. And Shiro--well, not cute, but good-looking, yeah. They were basically brothers, but Keith wasn't blind. Coran was handsome (for someone his age) and Allura was definitely pretty. He might've been gay but he could appreciate that.

But Lance? Adorable?

Too late for take-backs now. He had thought The Thought. Whoops.

He kicked back the blanket which had bunched up around his body. He'd never slept in a bed with anyone else, so he wouldn't know, but apparently, he was a blanket hog.

Good to know.

With stealth he'd picked up over the years from sneaking around drunk foster parents (oh, and also the Galra), Keith slid out of bed, contorting his body into weird positions to leap over Lance's body and roll onto the floor.

It felt suspiciously like a Sunday in, if Sundays even existed in space. Allura and Coran would probably be baffled if any of them ever mentioned something as mundane as that.

He padded to his room, brushed his teeth, took a quick but refreshing shower, and headed to the command center, where he could hear the familiar buzz of voices. They all looked around when he entered, faces in various forms of relief. Well, he had technically been alive yesterday, but the fact that some normalcy had been restored was probably a huge comfort.

"Where's Lance?" Allura asked.

"Still asleep." The answer tumbled out before Keith could stop it. Pidge frowned.

"How do you know?"

Keith caught Shiro's eye and was not pleased to see the suggestive look on his face as heat crawled up his own neck.

"I, uh, checked on him. Before coming in."

Thankfully, Allura accepted his response (though not without a suspicious look) and turned back to the display board.

"Well, we're going to start plotting our trajectory for Earth." She'd lost Keith by then. The strategic stuff was all Hunk and Pidge, and the two girls, Hunk, and Coran gathered over the 3D holographic schematic of the universe that Allura had cast over the space as Keith thankfully ducked out.

Straight into Shiro's watchful gaze.

"How are you feeling?"

"Good, I guess. Still a little loopy, but it'll wear off."

Shiro pinned Keith with such an openly speculative gaze that it was impossible not to scowl. "You and Lance...slept tog--in the same bed?" He amended his words quickly.

Keith grinned. 'Sleeping together' definitely wasn't something Shiro The Proper Adult would like saying.

"Uh huh." Keith knew better than to lie, but scoffed at the skeptical look on his face. "Come on, don't look at me like that."

"Like what?" Shiro didn't smile often (other than that aura of resigned but amused approval he always projected) but when he did, it was often a shit-eating grin. And right now, it was exactly that. "Like _this_?" He made googly eyes at Keith, who groaned and swatted at him.

"Shiro!"

"Wuzzgoinon?" said a voice, and Lance walked in wearing his jacket with the hood on, scrubbing at his eyes. "What's Shiro doing?"

"Nothing," Keith and Shiro chorused in never-to-be-repeated unison, although the latter did so only after receiving a withering glare (that didn't faze him in the least). Lance's eyebrows rose, but he said nothing.

"Okay...weirdness aside, are we going to Earth yet?"

"We're just plotting the path that's going to give us the least bother," Pidge informed him, pulling up a diagram analysis of a complicated tour from around Jupiter, three loops around Mars, finally ending with landing on the Moon. "This one is complicated, but safe."

Lance eyed it dubiously, then walked over to the giant glass wall at the front of the deck.

"Is it just me, or has it been too quiet?"

Keith frowned. "I mean, I did die a day ago, but--"

Everyone collectively winced and Keith instantly regretted it.

"Is it okay if we don't make jokes about that yet?" Hunk asked tentatively. "I don't like thinking about it."

Because it wasn't like Keith either ignored his issues or made jokes about them until they bit him in the ass. Shiro always dropped a few 'don't bottle up your emotions' and Keith usually retorted back with a defiant 'watch me' as he swept his problems under the rug.

"I think I know what Lance means," Allura said. "Although there was the issue of, uh, injuries a few quintants ago, it feels like there are monsters waiting to jump out of the darkness."

"No doubt," Lance observed. "One hundred percent guarantee that something's gonna come along to kill us in the next few minutes. Wait and watch."

No sooner had Lance said that then a planet loomed up in the distance. The team collectively stared out of the 'window' at it. It looked very similar to Trisavere, although technically it was impossible for a dead planet to have a duplicate in the Milky Way. A large black and purple construction protruded from it like an ugly pimple, easily recognizable as an abandoned Galra base.

"Maybe we could scout out that base for some scavenging?" Pidge suggested hopefully, eyes glinting at the thought of picking apart new tech. Allura surveyed the planet for a second before shrugging.

"We could give it a try."

Lance frowned. "Oh hell no," he interrupted, taking steps in Keith's general direction. "Last time we did this, you died!" He pointed an accusatory finger in Keith's face. "No way."

Keith scowled and crossed his arms. "Are you saying I can't handle myself?"

_Are you saying that it was my fault?_

"I'm saying that we can't trust you not to pull some sketchy shit that ends up with you half-dead," Lance said stubbornly.

"You can't tell me what to do!" Keith snapped, sounding exactly like Pidge. Except taller and obviously male.

Lance threw up his hands and waved them in the air. "I'd like to remind you that you bled out on me, and I'd like for that not to happen again!" He didn't know why he was so bothered by the fact that Keith would go out there just to be reckless again, but it did.

"Stow it, cadets!" Shiro commanded, standing in between the two. "The whole team except Coran is going in. We all are. There's less risk because this base is abandoned and we're going in as a team, got that?"

Like the mature defenders of the universe they were, Keith and Lance sulked. Shiro looked two seconds away from pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Suit up, kids," he said finally, and Allura allowed herself a small smile at his choice of words. "We're going in."

That was how Keith found himself trailing after Pidge as she fangirled over all the abandoned tech. Lance and Hunk had been assigned east wing, Shiro and Allura took the north, and they were scouting the west.

"Whoa, this is so cool! I can't believe they managed to link arctorial cables to the luxite like that!" 

Keith sighed as Pidge continued to spew techno-babble like nobody's business.

"Pidge, you know I can't understand a word of what you're saying."

She turned back to look at him. "What does it sound like I'm saying?"

"Like you're speaking Welsh."

She huffed and climbed onto a raised platform to examine a piece of metal. "And here all I thought the Welsh had to offer were consonants."

Their snickers echoed in the empty hallways, lit only by the small emergency lights attached at the wrists and ankles of their suits. Silence befell them, but it was a comfortable silence. Keith liked to think that out of all the paladins, he was closest to Pidge (after Shiro, obviously). They were very similar when it came to personality, possessing the same sense of dry humor and sarcastic responses. Keith didn't understand some people and didn't always know how to deal with them; Pidge preferred machines and animals to other people. They didn't feel the need to fill silence with words and meaningless chatter. Their silences were nice.

Keith's attention was caught when Pidge let out a small yelp and promptly crashed back down into the floor.

"You okay?"

"Fine," she said, dusting herself off, then froze when she heard a click. "Did-what was that? Was that you?"

Keith frowned. "Was what me?"

They stared at each other when the comms crackled to life.

_"Paladins, evacuate!"_ Allura's voice commanded. _"This base has a self-destruct mode because it used to hold sensitive goods, and the alarm has just been tripped. If it detects foreign presence, it will collapse. Out, out, out!"_

Pidge was frozen on the spot until Keith shoved her into motion.

"You heard her!" He lifted a hand to his comms. "Lance, we need to move. Long story short, Pidge tripped an alarm and now we need to leave before we're all crushed."

_"Damn it, Pidge_ ," Lance's voice grumbled. _"I thought I was the clumsiest."_

They ran, Pidge tripping and stumbling in front of Keith and hindering his progress slightly, but he didn't dare run in front for fear of leaving her behind. She might've been speedy at fighting, if not too proficient, but Keith was a fast runner, able to sprint for long distances at full speed.

The exit was in sight when the entire base rumbled, as if the foundations were crumbling in on themselves. Which it probably was.

Keith nearly sent Pidge flying when she skidded to a stop. The beams above the exit had collapsed, blocking their way out. The ominous rumbling continued. Keith squinted upwards, eyes widening when he saw the dangling beam that hung just above the green paladin's head.

It was like autopilot mode had been activated. Keith remembered shoving her out of the way, hearing a shriek as she fell to the floor, and when something hard struck him on the head, nothing.

Not even darkness. Just nothing.

. . .

He came awake to hear Pidge calling for him.

"Keith, can you hear me?"

He grunted, trying to lift his torso up, but collapsing back in pain. This wasn't a sharp pain, but more like a dull, throbbing one that spread slowly down his body as he regained consciousness. His chest felt swollen and hot underneath his suit, his left hip pulsed with pain, and when he lifted a hand to the back of his neck, it came away wet.

"Injuries?" He asked.

"I think my ankle's broken," she answered, matter-of-fact enough to sound like she was delivering another one of her deadpan lines. "You?"

He opened his mouth to give her the full extent, but his vision swam with black spots and his jaws promptly clicked shut. After the trauma of the past few days, Keith had absolutely no intention to put his teammates through the same crippling anxiety or worry he knew they'd felt. A few white lies couldn't hurt.

Well, they did hurt when it came to his ribs, but there was time for that later.

"Concussion, probably." That was the reason for the blood running down his neck and into the crevices of his suit. He itched to reach back and wipe it, but moving at all made him nauseous.

"Stupid you and your stupid hero complex," Pidge muttered, then the small cramped area lit up green as her gauntlet glowed. "Guys, can you hear me?"

_"Pidge? Lance, Hunk, Allura, and I made it out. We can't see you."_

"Yeah, that's because we didn't." You'd think Pidge was telling Shiro the sky was blue, what with how obvious her tone was. "It kind of, um, collapsed on us, and Keith's concussed. My ankle's broken."

Keith heard Shiro's sigh of relief and cringed. Hopefully, forgiveness was better than permission.

"Thank god it's not something worse." Yeah, _thank god_. "Send Lance your location. Hunk's busy with tunneling away the wreckage on one side."

Keith bit the inside of his cheek as he moved his leg and felt searing white-hot pain, but refrained from reacting. If Shiro was sending Lance over, then it would be a tough few minutes before they were found.

Lance gloated like how Keith had predicted he would, constantly letting out 'I told you so's and 'knew Keith wasn't great enough not to need the sharpshooter's help.' Keith, to his credit, prevented himself from making any biting remarks. He pinpointed their location (finally) and started drilling.

"Keith?" Pidge called again, about to ask whether he heard back from Lance, but grew more alert when she didn't receive a response. "Keith!"

Keith distantly heard her yelling, but his eyelids were way too heavy to bother. Pidge muttered something and crawled towards the red glow, dragging her injured foot behind her.

"Keith!" It was another frantic cry. His lies had been discovered. Whoops. He felt her hands at his shoulders, shaking him awake. "Why didn't you tell me you were badly wounded, idiot?"

_"What?"_ Shiro was one wary cookie, Keith had to give him that. _"What do you mean by badly wounded?"_

Keith winced as he raised his wrist to his lips to wipe away a trickle of blood. "Broken ribs, I think."

Pidge squinted at the liquid on the ground before realizing what it was and letting out a shriek that made his head spin.

"Keith, no!" She pressed at the gaping hole in his side, trying not to get her hands in the blood pooling around it. "Stay with me. Look at me. Lance, hurry up!"

_"Why, what's wrong? Is Mullet feeling a little panicky?"_

"Now's not the time for jokes, Lance!" She rarely ever cut him off like that. "Internal bleeding, broken ribs, wound in side, severe concussion. He knocked me out of the way."

If Keith wasn't mistaken, her amber eyes were glassy with tears. But then again, he was floating in and out of consciousness, pain being the only thing keeping him awake, so maybe his sight wasn't the best thing to rely on.

"Keith, talk to me. Keep your eyes open. Don't close them."

He mentally groaned at her stubbornness, desperately wanting to close his eyes and get some rest. "What do I say?" His words came out more slurred than usual.

"I-I don't know, tell me about your family. Home. Anything you remember."

"Well," Keith began, blinking woozily to stay awake just for her sake. "My dad died when I was ten. Uh, my mom left...I don't know when. From then on, it was mainly foster homes?" His voice slowly got softer and softer until it was a whisper. "Nobody wanted a kid like me, y'know? They said I was a problem child, an' all those other things. Some foster parents were nice, I think, but some of them weren't. That's why I got so good at runnin', because I had to run if I didn' wan' to catch the belt. The belt buckle hur' more, though."

He wasn't getting numb like how he had the last time, but he could feel his consciousness ebb away.

Pidge drew in a rattling breath, her voice muffled and sounding choked. "That's the saddest thing I've ever heard."

"Don' be sad," he reassured her. "At leas' the social worker came and got me when one of them shot me. I met Shiro. He was good." He closed his eyes, but whined lowly when Pidge shook his shoulders.

"Keith. Stay awake. Lance's almost drilled here. He'll be getting us, and then it's the pod for you." Her voice became smaller. "Again."

"Hey, Pidge? Katie? What do I call you?" Keith mumbled. "I'm gonna ask you something, and you have to promise not to laugh."

"Promise," she said immediately. 

"Can you hold my hand?"

Pidge's face crumpled, and his lagging mind tried to hastily cover up.

"Never mind, that was stupid. You know, when you get all angry, you remind me of one of the foster mothers. One of the nice ones." His rambling halted when a small hand gripped his tightly, tiny fingers weaving among his own. 

"Stay awake," she said sternly, desperately trying to channel her mother. Colleen Holt got her way every single damn time, no matter whom she was staring down. Maybe if she asserted herself like Colleen, something in Keith's subconscious would respond to 'the mom voice' and awaken slightly.

The base shook again, but this time, there was light. Pidge squinted out of the opening to see a blue and silver snout nosing at the walls, and finally, finally, the blue lion broke through. Lance and Hunk dashed out, Lance helping Pidge to her feet and Hunk scooping Keith up for the second time in a week.

Pidge's ankle was hurting like a bitch, but she didn't miss the anxious glances Lance sent Keith every few seconds. She nudged him.

"He'll be fine."

She didn't miss the blush either.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love Keith, so I'm gonna hurt him. Yep. I wrote the entire thing only for the Keith-Pidge platonic moment (and Klance, of course). Their friendship doesn't get enough love. 
> 
> Look me in the eyes and tell me that the hand-holding part didn't almost make you cry. DO IT.


	4. Those we left behind

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm a bitch when it comes to updating regularly or doing ANYTHING on time, really. So don't judge me.

For the second time, Keith came awake in a pod. As soon as his consciousness returned, the glass slid open and he stumbled out. Almost instantly, his foot caught on something soft and he tripped backward, landing on his bottom with a thud and a groan.

"You sure know how to make an entrance." Lance glared at Keith from his scrunched-up position at the foot of the pod. His jacket--that was what Keith had tripped over--was bunched around his legs, his dark brown hair mussed in a Pidge-worthy bedhead, slight bags under his eyes.

Keith stared at him, nonplussed. He found his voice only after a few seconds.

"Were you there the whole night?" He asked finally, voice hoarse from disuse. Lance folded his arms and slunk even lower against the pod, so that his chin touched his chest.

"Yes," he grumbled. "But only because Hunk's trying to make Pidge happy by playing with some tech and Shiro's training."

Keith frowned. "Are you mad at me?"

Lance scrambled to his feet and threw up his hands. "Of course I'm mad at you! You're so reckless and self-sacrificing like the bitch-faced mulleted bitch you are! What did you think lying about your injuries would achieve?"

Keith's lips twitched at the insult, but his temper rose.

"Because I didn't want to worry any of you! I already almost died once, and doing that again would just freak you out again! I didn't want to burden the team."

Lance scowled. "Yeah, well, you did the exact opposite." He realized what he said when Keith recoiled and instinctively put a hand on his shoulder. "No! I mean, with regard to worrying us. Not-not being a burden. You would never burden us, you know. We're a team."

He understood the connotations behind 'team.'

As if he could tell what Keith was thinking, Lance's eyes widened. "Ohana means family," he said, in a horrible screechy voice. "Family means nobody gets left behind or forgotten."

(Lilo and Stitch. If Keith didn't get Lance's other references, at least he got that.)

The wide grin on Lance's face was infectious. Keith laughed, a raspy, pleasant sound that tingled through Lance's fingers and into his rib cage.

Pidge's voice crackled over the PA. "Lance, Keith! We're entering the atmosphere!" The excitement in her voice was almost tangible. Lance's eyes practically sparkled as he grabbed Keith's arm (actually, the bicep) and almost dragged him to the command center. He only registered that he was holding on to Keith's very muscular arm when they'd reached, and quickly let go like he'd been burned.

Allura and Coran watched as the rest of the team stared at the blue and green planet they were so proud to call home. Lance sniffled and Keith frowned.

"Are you crying?"

He turned away and swiped his elbow over his nose. "No, no! Just--allergies. There's a lot of space dust."

"We're going home," Shiro murmured, the Earth reflected in his grey irises. Hunk clutched Coran and sobbed.

"He's right, it's space dust."

Coran himself started bawling. "It's _filthy!"_

Keith patted Pidge on the back, and she turned around and hugged him. "I'm gonna see Matt and Dad again! And Mom--!" Her face fell. "I hope I'm not grounded."

Allura looked bewildered. "Grounded? I wasn't aware humans could fly."

Keith tried to explain the term to her in vain, while Pidge muttered strategies on how she could persuade her mother into not being mad at her.

("Puppy eyes don't work, that works only on my dad, but maybe I could guilt-trip her? Reverse psychology? Pull some Pavlovian move on her? Oh, what the hell, she's _my mom_. She'll figure out anything I say. I'm so dead.")

"We'll make sure she doesn't leave the ground, then," Allura concluded, and Keith massaged his temples. He looked at Lance, and his breath caught in his throat. Lance's eyes were glistening, but with happy tears.

"I can't wait to see my parents. And everyone else. Hell, I wanna see Marco's lizard too."

Marco. Luis. Lisa. Veronica. Rachel. Nadia. Sylvio. He never thought he would miss home so much. Even the street hecklers were a source of nostalgia.

Keith snorted. "I can't wait to meet the people who put up with you."

That earned him a light shove.

"We're going home!" Hunk cheered after a few seconds of silence, then squished Allura and Coran into a hug. "You're finally going to see what elephants are!"

A few more seconds of ecstatic silence, broken by Pidge's despairing declaration:

"My mom's gonna kill me!"

Considering that it took them barely five minutes to traverse halfway across the universe, it took an eternity to actually land on Earth. Coran had commented endlessly on the wonky shapes of 'Earthian' continents, and Allura had asked if anyone lived 'all the way in the east', which Shiro said was Japan, and yes, humans did.

The Castle had been parked somewhere on the Nebraskan plains, the lions still inside. The team was antsy, hell, even Shiro was restless to see the people he'd left behind, but he'd held back and they'd waited for a call. Eventually, it had come.

"Hailing unidentified flying vessel, this is Commander Samuel Holt of the Galaxy Garrison. Please state your name and intentions."

Pidge had almost broken the comms with how she'd leaped at it.

"Dad! It's us!"

"Katie?" Samuel Holt's voice was filled with wonder and relief. After all, the last time he'd seen his daughter was almost two years ago. "Wh-"

"Who's with you?" A gruff, rougher voice interrupted.

Shiro stepped forward. "This is Lieutenant Commander Takashi Shirogane of the Galaxy Garrison, sir." His tone was firm and monotone.

The team stepped back, slightly in awe. They had rarely seen Shiro in his element.

"Paladin of the Black Lion. I am here with Katie Holt, green paladin, Hunk Garrett, yellow paladin, Leandro Sanchez-McClain, blue paladin, Keith Kogane, red paladin, and two Alteans of royal descent. We're home."

Muffled discussions from the other side followed. Keith stared at Lance.

"That's your full name?"

Lance nodded sheepishly. "My family always called me Lance," he whispered. "And it's easier to call me cadet McClain than the whole shebang."

Keith's expression softened, and he opened his mouth to say something when Allura declared her name and title, and the communications switched off. Shiro turned around to face the team. There was a subtle change in his demeanor, some new shine to his eyes. As adult-y and mature as he was, Shiro was just another person who had left everything behind. It was a small source of sadness that the team couldn't give him everything he probably wanted and needed, but hey, that went for everyone.

Everyone except Keith, who suspected that Adam had a lot to do with the new twinkle in his eye. Not that he grudged Shiro his happiness, but now that they were back on Earth, who knew what would happen to the tightly knit team? Would the only family he ever knew drift apart? Would he lose Shiro to Adam, lose Lance to Cuba, lose Hunk and Pidge to tech and their families, lose Coran and Allura to wherever Romelle had gone?

He still had Kosmo and Krolia, but they'd gone off on a mission with the Blades. They'd be back, but still. He couldn't help but worry.

A hand at his shoulder halted his frantic thoughts, and Keith stared into bright blue eyes. His stomach flip-flopped.

"Hey, stop worrying. We're here." Lance offered him a small smile, and seemed like he was going to say something when Shiro interrupted.

"Lance, Keith, Hunk--take the red lion. Pidge, myself, Coran, and Allura will go in the black one." He did something nobody had ever seen before: he clapped his palms together, momentarily forgetting his situation, and his hands _clanked_. "Chop chop. Let's move."

They stared at him while he glared at his prosthesis, and then Allura clapped. This time, they listened.

"Well, you heard the man! Fall into line, cadets!"

They fell into line.

. . .

Lance shot Keith a sideways look as the other man shifted uncomfortably, eyeing the gaping officers standing at the side as Shiro talked to Iverson in the courtyard.

"So _you're_ the man who strapped him to a table!" Coran exclaimed, twirling his mustache at Iverson with a little more menace than necessary. "Good, good. Noted."

"He was doing what any good soldier would've done," Shiro said politely, although Lance could clearly hear the underlying tone calling _bullshit_ under it. "If you're done, sir, my team has some commitments they'd like to see out."

Was this what diplomacy was? Because Shiro was excellent at saying 'fuck you' through a sugary layer. Dry humor-wise, Lance aspired to be like Shiro some day.

There was a sick swooping sensation in his gut when he saw Keith eyeing a senior cadet to the side. The man had dark brown hair in half-swept-back bangs, a thin pale face, and a rather stiff expression. He looked stuck-up, like someone who followed the rules at all times.

Maybe _eyeing_ was the wrong word. Personally, it looked like Keith was eye-fucking the guy, but none of his expressions had one sole meaning. Plus, if the muscle jumping in his temple was anything to go by, either Keith was really turned-on or really tense. Maybe both. Maybe neither. Lance preferred to believe it was the latter.

And why did it bother him anyway? 

When they'd been newly established rivals, Lance was surprised to see that Keith didn't show any interest in competing for female attention. Usually, two rivals competed for romantic attention as well, but Keith had never shown any interest in any female. At the time, Lance had just put it down to being really snobby and stuck-up.

Now, he wasn't so sure. It didn't bother him if Keith was straight or not, but right now, Lance _really didn't like_ the fact that Keith was staring at _that guy._

_I want him to stare at me instead_. The thought popped up unbidden, and he tried his best to forget it, but nope. When he'd thought the thought, he couldn't unthink it. Something in his subconscious wanted to be the person that Keith's full attention was occupied by, and Lance was conscious of that slight jealousy.

It didn't mean he liked it, though.

He nudged Keith as they walked into the Garrison, through the familiar doors and into the conference hall. "Hey mullet, you good? You looked like you were mentally undressing that dude back there."

A normal person would've caught on to the slightly odd inflection to his tone, but oh no, Keith was no normal person when it came to emotions. He blinked.

"Did it look like that?" The words were stilted, said through gritted teeth. "That was James Griffin, the kid whose nose I broke when I was twelve."

A part of Lance was, strangely, relieved.

"Griffin had a problem with the fact that I was gay and an orphan." Keith's eyes were dark with anger. "After he found out, that is."

Lance suddenly wanted to put James Griffin's head through a wall.

Instead, he spoke up. "Are we allowed to leave premises right away?"

Iverson gave him a long calculating look, then nodded. "There are no more procedures to be followed. You may go to your families." He executed a precise one-eighty and marched out. Pidge threw up her fist.

Lance felt exhausted and on tenterhooks at the same time.

It was done. All the plans were laid out. Hunk was heading back to Samoa with his parents to see his aunts and uncles, Pidge was staying with her family (having been promptly grounded), Coran was leaving to Pollux to see Romelle, and Allura, Shiro, and Keith were going with Lance.

Lance gathered his energy for the teary goodbyes. Hunk and Pidge squeezed him tightly and Coran pumped his arm, wiping away stray tears and muttering something about 'his favorite number three.' To Keith's surprise, Hunk and Pidge squashed him as well, Hunk properly wetting his shoulder pad with tears.

"Don't die again, alright?" Pidge said with a wicked grin, and Keith ruffled her hair in retaliation. Coran patted him on the back and gave him an approving look, and the team split apart into their respective crafts.

Shiro, Allura, Keith, and Lance went into the red lion, because it was faster and had two pilots. Hunk would be dropped off by Coran from the Altean pod.

Pidge was dragged away by her mother, holding her ear in a firm grip. Sam and Matt Holt shook all their hands, and they finally left.

It took them only an hour to fly to Cuba, but for Lance, it felt like forever. He and Keith took turns flying the lion, switching every time Keith's hands cramped or Lance dozed off at the stick. Allura gaped at the stretch of water in the Gulf of Mexico, and it took her some time to realize that it was, in fact, undrinkable. Saltwater bodies had come as a big surprise, because according to her, _what use are these giant oceans if you can't drink from any of them?_

Shiro had quickly shut down her 'in Altea' complaints.

Lance almost whooped aloud when he saw the glinting white beaches of Varadero, the pale blue waters lapping at the shore. He put Blue down somewhere on the dunes, and was the first to bound out the mouth of the lion to inhale the fresh salty smell of the sea.

It smelled like home.

He led the way to the large two-story house half a mile away, and they walked through the boundary wall to stand in front of the crumbling home he'd missed so much. The chickens still squawked in the coop, Nacho the dog still barked when he saw Lance, and the wind still rustled through the tiny flower patch Rachel had insisted on growing.

"Are you gonna go in?" Keith asked gently, placing a hand on his shoulder. Lance swallowed and stepped forward, walking up the chipped steps and knocking on the door.

_"¡Está abierto!"_

His stomach churned as his ears recognized the language he'd learned to speak before all else. He hadn't heard it in four years, and now, it sounded like music. He twisted the doorknob and pushed the door open.

"Mami?"

On the other end of the living room was a short woman in a faded dress, holding a broom rather menacingly. She stared at him for a second before walking over and grabbing him into an embrace. He wrapped his arms around her, feeling a spot below his right shoulder slowly get wetter and wetter.

The reunion was spoiled when she gave him a quick clip on the back of his head and he let out an ouch, rubbing the area.

"All of you, come down!" she hollered.

Lance watched as his various family members thudded down the stairs, having an immediate ingrained reaction to the call they knew from experience. Veronica saw him first, and flew at him to seize him around the neck. Rachel nearly knocked Veronica's glasses off while she choked him from the back, Marco and Luis piled on top, and Nacho joined the dog-pile on the threshold of the house.

They slowly got off him when Veronica managed to floor Marco, and then it was time for introductions. Lance's mother flew forward and gripped Shiro's hand, blinking away her tears.

"Thank you for bringing my son back to me," she said gratefully. "I'm Luz." She blushed. "Lance, you didn't tell me you had such _handsome_ teammates?"

"Mom!"

"Shiro," he said politely after a small chuckle, smiling warmly at her. "We couldn't have done anything without Lance." All round introductions followed, with Luz prodding forward Nadia and Sylvio to introduce themselves and Luis apologizing for Lisa's absence.

Keith watched as Rachel whistled and nudged Lance in the side. Despite being a year or two apart, they were almost identical, except for the eye color. Only Veronica and Lance shared that feature.

"You didn't tell me your leader was a hottie beefcake," she murmured. "And your Keith and Allura? Hot damn."

Keith quickly found that Rachel was also very much like Lance, personality-wise, but much more chill and had an unaffected 'roll with it' attitude that Lance didn't possess. Nothing seemed to faze her, like Veronica, who had gripped his hand and shaken it _very_ firmly. It still hurt, even after ten minutes.

"Hey!" Lance said defensively, as Allura and Keith smiled. "My other friends are hot too."

"Yeah, but you're not," Luis chimed in, ruffling his younger brother's hair. Lance pouted, and Rachel turned to Allura.

"Are you his girlfriend? Because you look way too beautiful for that."

Lance let out a loud scoff as everyone snickered. Allura turned pink and shook her head. "I'm sorry, Rachel, I am not."

Marco turned to Keith and Rachel fluttered her eyelashes at him. _"¿Entonces tú?"_

Keith choked and could've spat out his thoughts, but managed not to look at Lance, who was completely red for some reason. Or, for that matter, Shiro, because his smug-ass look was as bad as Lance's sputtering.

"Um, no. Not... _no soy su novio."_

Lance's jaw dropped and his teammates stared at Keith, who rubbed the back of his neck bashfully. Finally, Lance let out a high-pitched noise of bewilderment and exasperation.

"I don't know what's happening, and this is veering dangerously into teasing-Lance territory, so I'm cutting you two off right there." He held up a finger. "Just get in."

Keith, Shiro, and Allura exchanged confused glances as the family herded them into the house, Luz heading the motley procession with the broom back in hand. Nadia and Sylvio bounced around the whole time, apparently very interested by Keith's hairstyle and why Shiro and Allura's hair was colored like that, and could they do it too?

Nadia even managed to persuade Allura to give her a piggyback ride, which the woman did (to everyone's surprise) quite happily.

Keith and Lance exchanged amused glances, the kind of look you'd see parents share when they finally put their kids to bed. Then they froze and simultaneously looked in the other direction, trying not to give anything away. Keith had no idea that he'd gotten so used to looking at Lance--whether it was bouncing ideas off him, or shooting him a deadpan _kill-me-now_ look during a particularly boring debriefing, or even grimacing at him when Hunk and Pidge became a little too intellectual for anyone to understand.

He had always known that he relied on Lance as his right-hand man (quite literally) and the second-in-command of Voltron, but this much? In such a comfortable environment?

Keith had had numerous realizations in his life. First ranking was probably the gay awakening he'd gone through when he was ten. Second, team Voltron were family. Third, Lance was too good-looking for his own good. The guy was the literal definition of 'pretty boy'. Fourth, he and Lance were actually far better friends than he'd thought they were. Fifth, he wanted Lance to be more than a friend.

He didn't know _what_ , exactly. But 'friend' wasn't something on the table. And so far, that realization didn't rank too high when it came to feel-goodness.

Jesus Christ.

He didn't know what he was getting himself into, but frankly, the way his heart flip-flopped every time Lance looked at him was far more risky than any mission in the middle of space. Even counting the ones he'd almost lost his life in.

In the midst of dangerous territory, he had to tread lightly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love Veronica, I really do. And 'Tio' Lance? Get me some of that. 
> 
> Leave kudos. Comments. Hell, leave a shit emoji. Do SOMETHING. I know my writing isn't shitty, so that deserves SOME response. GIVE ME SOME APPRECIATION, FOLKS. 
> 
> Have I mentioned that I need validation to survive?


	5. Starry starry night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Double update, because life is a fickle motherfucker and I can't sit on this shit without mentally torturing myself.
> 
> P.S. Do any of you want me to add translation boxes? Like the hovering thingies? Or should I just translate at the end? 
> 
> P.P.S. I am a _struggling high school kid_. RSVP fast or you'll have to suck it up with Google Translate.

Lance jolted awake for the third time that night, heart pounding, and it took some time for him to realize that he was home, in the bunk bed he'd long outgrown, listening to Allura's slow breaths in the bunk above him.

(Apparently, Alteans needed less oxygen than humans, and Lance had panicked a few times when he registered Allura's slow rate of inhalation until she'd reassured him that it was perfectly normal.)

The window had been left open, the curtains pulled to the side. From his position, Lance could see the Prussian blue night sky, dotted with a few stars here and there. He rolled over and grabbed his wristwatch, groaning at the luminous numbers.

1:00 am.

Having your entire existence restricted to one facility and then suddenly going to a place where night and day didn't even exist was bound to give anyone whiplash. So _maybe_ living in space for four years had given him major jet lag.

A few years ago, Lance would've blushed if he'd ever thought about sleeping in the same room as Allura, much less sharing a bunk bed. Now, it was as natural as sharing a bed with one of his sisters, if not as intimate.

What would really make him blush would be sharing a bed with Keith again.

No. Nope. Not going there. Hell no. Not at one in the morning.

Besides, he was willing to bet it was only because Keith was as beautiful as he'd thought Allura once was. Soft black hair, eyes the exact color of the sky at that moment, a crooked grin when he did smile, and-- _dammit, Lance._

Here he was, soliloquizing to himself in the dead of night.

Lance sighed and swung his legs out of bed, careful not to make it creak. But Allura slept like a log (surprisingly) and he was able to make it out of the guest room and into the kitchen before he realized that someone else was also awake.

_"Keith?"_

Keith spun around, the spoon still in his right cheek, holding a half-empty jar of peanut butter in his hand. His expression was the literal embodiment of 'dang it' and so caught-in-the-act that Lance couldn't help but laugh.

"What?" Keith snapped, guiltily swallowing the mouthful of peanut butter. "What are you doing wandering around at one am?"

"I could ask you the same thing," Lance countered, when he'd gotten over the hilarity of the situation. Then, he noticed something else. "Are those yours?"

Keith tugged at the shirt hem of the matching set of pajamas he was wearing, cheeks flushed pomegranate red. "Yeah." The pajamas, Lance guessed, probably used to be red, but were now a faded sunset orange, and had little blue hippos on them. "Shiro gave them to me as a joke when I was fifteen."

"And it still fits you?"

Keith scowled and looked at himself again, seeming to realize what a ridiculous figure he cut, in his too-small pajamas that reached mid-shin and the too-tiny shirt that was dangerously tight around his pecs. His lips quirked up as Lance snickered, and he finally chuckled softly.

"I suppose it's seen better days," he admitted, once they were done. "It didn't spend two years in the quantum abyss with me."

Lance snorted and leaned against the doorway. "Yeah, dude. What happened back there? Look at your shoulders, man. You're _jacked_." He tried not to look at the rest of Keith's body. Begone, horny Lance.

Keith just looked amused, then frowned. "Actually, what _are_ you doing here?"

Lance sensed the genuineness of the question behind the rather harsh delivery, and shrugged. "Nightmare. I woke up gasping for the third time, and figured that I might as well feed my bitch-ass brain if it won't let me sleep."

Keith looked conflicted for a second, then settled on a 'I see.'

"What about you, then?" Lance asked curiously, trying not to smile when Keith got peanut butter on his index finger and sucked it off.

"Insomnia." Keith examined his butter knife with a casualness that didn't fool either of them. "Had it since the failure of the Kerberos mission."

So ever since Shiro disappeared. Well, the first time he did, anyway.

Lance watched Keith as he shook his bangs out his face, the skin under his eyes dark with lack of sleep. He'd never envisioned any of his friends from space coming to his house, and now they were actually here, he couldn't imagine anything different. Shiro had settled in pretty well, having been whisked off to the garage by Marco. Allura had bonded a little too deeply with Nadia, and Rachel had taken both of them to the salon. Keith...well, Keith had spent the entire day inside, wandering from the kitchen to the garage to the bedroom and back again, talking to Luz, Luis, and Lisa when she arrived.

Of all his friends, Keith had seemed the most awkward. He'd seemed like a giant among Nadia and Sylvio (although Shiro was a bigger giant), and moved with a kind of clumsy grace that came with not being used to such domestic surroundings. Even alone in the kitchen, he looked like he was standing in a dollhouse, every single utensil looking miniature in his hands. Even if he was just about six feet tall.

"Do you know where I go when I can't sleep?"

Keith raised an eyebrow, and Lance nodded his head in the direction of the back door and started walking. Light footsteps followed his soon, and then they were out in the open backyard. There was a path there that led right up to the beach, and Lance had traversed that path countless times before. He picked through the cobblestones as the grass slowly gave way to white sand that glowed with the pale light of the moon. The air was crisp and chilly, the entire beach quiet, and every single thing (including Keith) was bathed in moonlight.

He heard Keith let out a little gasp as their feet sank into cool dry sand, and when Lance turned around, his teammate was taking large, wide steps and going down like the Titanic.

"Stop laughing!" Keith snapped, with an edge of fondness to his tone. "I've never walked on sand like this before."

Lance immediately stared. "Never? Meaning, you've never gone to a beach before?"

"No," he said sheepishly. "Didn't really have anyone to take me there when I was a kid, and how far can you get in Nebraska before people realize you're not an adult?"

Right, the orphan thing.

Keith was already staring upwards, his eyes shining with the reflection of countless stars above them. For a second, Lance mistook his eyes for the night sky.

Lance had had two crises in his life: his bi awakening, and one right this very moment. Keith was _stunningly_ good-looking. He had Pidge confirm it just to be sure. The boy was all sharp jawline and high cheekbones, all stubbornness and stormy eyes, all hoarse laughter and sarcastic one-liners. And the moonlight--when it illuminated his face and threw his handsome features into stark relief--Lance's heart skipped a few beats.

"Walking on sand reminds me of the time Pidge got drunk," Keith mused. "Apparently, nunvill is quite intoxicating in large quantities, and she basically chugged a whole barrel."

Pidge had also woken up the next day with Hunk bending over her, having absolutely no memory of designing an entire spaceship complete with peanut butter fountains and espresso hot tubs, nor did she remember Allura tightly gripping her waist as she tried to launch herself into space because she wanted to be the first to create space vomit. And then she'd cried, because Hunk had been the first to space vomit and had thus stolen her Guinness record.

Lance chortled. "Well, how was she supposed to know Altean Gatorade was space moonshine?"

Keith snickered at the wording. "Shiro was so mad at Coran. He went full dad. Definitely blasted on the dadness."

They fell silent for a while, and Lance watched as Keith crouched down in his tight pajamas, tried to make something that looked suspiciously like the Castle with crumbly loose sand. Needless to say, he failed.

"What's you favorite constellation?" He asked, before he knew what he was going to say. Keith looked up at him with surprised eyes, then his expression softened.

"Orion."

Okay, so not the expected response. Lance thought Keith would've scoffed and replied with something smart-ass. Huh.

"What about you?" Keith asked.

"Cassiopeia."

Lance plunked himself down on the sand next to Keith and toppled the pathetic sandcastle with a cackle, earning a shout of indignation. Keith diligently set to work making another castle a foot away with a trench around it for protection.

"Hey, uh." Lance looked at Keith, who looked genuinely ashamed. "I'm sorry for leaving the team."

Lance's brows knitted. "Why?"

Keith shrugged, then smashed his fist down on his half-finished castle. "I don't know, I just--I left. We were a family, but then Allura started flying Blue, and you flew Red, and Shiro came back, and he was always the better leader, you know? So I thought I didn't have to stay, because--like you said--five lions, six paladins. Someone had to leave." His gaze was downcast as he raked his fingers through his bangs. "But If I'd been there, maybe we would've recognized that it wasn't really Shiro. Lotor wouldn't have infiltrated the team so easily, because I'm the most skeptical person you know. Maybe--I don't know--maybe nobody would've gotten hurt."

Lance was speechless for a few seconds. He always was every time Keith opened up, just like the time in the blue lion leaving Trisavere. This time, he was speechless for a different reason. He clearly remembered, right before the black lion had chosen its new paladin, how he'd knocked on Keith's door.

_"There's five lions, and six paladins, and I might not be great at calculations, but that's one paladin too many."_

_"That's some pretty solid math."_

He remembered the feeling of inadequacy Keith and Allura had always caused to arise in him--not intentionally, of course. Lance had always been insecure but competitive by nature, and seeing Keith and Allura just be better than him in general (even if there was absolutely no need for comparison) hit harder than he'd liked to admit.

_"So maybe the best thing I can do for the team is step aside."_

A younger Keith had said, very angrily, _"What are you talking about? This team needs you, Lance."_

The team did need him. It needed all of them. They all had missed Keith, Lance more than he'd anticipated, but they'd been in the middle of war. There was no time to miss teammates. But here, where they were home, finally at ease, he missed it. He missed it all.

But what came out of his mouth was actually: "Um."

Eloquent.

Keith didn't look offended or hurt, but his eyes glazed over with wariness. "I don't expect you to forgive me or anything, but--"

"What are you talking about?" Lance said, all in one breath. "You wanted to find your family and your place in the world. That's perfectly understandable! You saved my life and Pidge's life and all of our asses countless times! There's nothing to forgive!"

Keith looked sheepish. "It was only those two ti--"

"Oh, _please_. Matt told me about what you were going to do on Naxzela." Lance stared straight into Keith's thundercloud-blue eyes. "You were willing to drop everything for any one of us, and I've known it since you almost blew up Professor Harris when we were being chased on that hovercraft. None of us ever held it against you."

He remembered what had happened. All of them knew about Naxzela. Pidge had opened incoming comms at the last minute, and Matt's frantic shouts had echoed in all their ears.

_"No! Keith, no! Don't do it!"_

Keith, as usual, hadn't listened.

They had seen the tiny Galra craft nearing the particle barrier, just five seconds away from hitting it and being obliterated, and then Lotor had arrived. Matt had crushed Keith into a hug later, back at the ship, and they were all smart enough to figure it out. Lance hadn't quite felt the same horror Matt had felt, but he did remember feeling a sick, oozing sensation of guilt and dread crawling up his throat.

"But-"

Without thinking, he seized Keith's collar and dragged him down so they were lying flat against the sand, side by side, staring up at the clear night sky.

"Shut up, man."

And Keith began to shake silently beside him, shoulders quivering. Unrestrained chuckles bubbled out of his throat, hoarse and pleasant. Lance started laughing as well, digging his head into the sand and feeling it cushion his limbs.

That is, until Keith's eyelids began to droop.

They stumbled back to the house, quietly chuckling to each other when Lance commented on Keith's klutziness, and only stepped in after a thorough dusting down. Luz would've murdered them in cold blood if anyone brought sand into her house, so they made sure that their hair was _mostly_ free of sand before they crashed onto the couch.

(Note to self: Sand never comes out. It's like the glitter of nature.)

"I can't sleep in my bed now," Lance whined, pulling his shirt away from his skin and shaking it. He thought he saw Keith glance at it briefly before looking away, but it was probably a trick of the light.

"Should I sleep on the floor?" Keith offered tentatively. Lance frowned.

"As I recall, last time you slept next to me, you were dead to the world until morning."

Keith just looked blank, and Lance huffed and patted the couch. The guy was fucking denser than lead.

"You're bunking with me."

This time, he scowled. "You're not serious?"

"Dead serious," Lance said solemnly, and scooted to the end so his back was against the armrest, gesturing at Keith to lie down. Keith did so (thank god the couch was wide), his nose on level with Lance's shoulder, and he lay there stiffly until Lance huffed very loudly and dragged him closer with an arm around his shoulders.

"Just get in here." He knew that Keith was definitely not used to this much intimacy, but hey, they were caked in sand and had fought together in space. "Boundaries mean nothing to me."

"Clearly," Keith muttered, but he placed his arm around Lance's midsection. Lance's ability to deflect conversations and turn topics around to make them less awkward had never been more useful, and he was only beginning to realize how much he appreciated that.

Also, Lance smelled like sea salt. He smelled like laundry detergent and fresh air and the sea, and strangely enough, it reminded him of home.

Something he had now.

. . .

For the second time, Lance woke up to an empty bed.

To be honest, if he'd woken up with Keith's face two millimeters from his, he would've probably lost his shit. He could imagine it. Coming back to consciousness with a pretty boy inches from his face? His soul would probably leave his body, although maybe with one of those slide-whistle effects. Boom. Out. Done with it.

So, that was both good and bad.

If any of his family members had observed that he and Keith had fallen asleep wrapped around each other on the couch, they had (thankfully) said nothing. Although Shiro had to pinch Allura a few times when she got too pink from trying to hold back her questions.

And Rachel looked particularly suggestive. Luis looked openly speculative. Marco had--well, his whole family carried around that annoying _knowing_ expression. Only Sylvio and Nadia were innocent. Yeah, Lance only loved them.

Luz was, as usual, unruffled. "Good, you're awake, _mijo_." She handed Lance a chipped enamel mug of coffee as soon as he emerged from the bathroom, and he leaned against the kitchen counter, sipping it.

"Shiro, I bet you missed coffee."

Shiro grinned from where he was reading the newspaper. To all their amusement, he'd gotten little rectangular reading glasses, and he looked like a rather young grandpa with them perched on the end of his nose.

"You bet I did. I can't tell you how many withdrawals I suffered because space doesn't have any decent caffeine except for nunvill, which tastes like shit."

Lance snorted into his mug and Allura pouted. She had willingly allowed Rachel to take her to the salon, and the two had come back two hours later to earn cries of dismay and astonishment. Her newly-cut hair fell to her shoulders when combed, but right now, it was in a disreputable state of bedhead.

Even worse than Keith's, which was saying a whole lot.

Why was he thinking about Keith _now_ , anyway?

And where was he?

"Where's Keith?" Lance asked, as casually as he could, and immersed himself in his mug. Shiro's lips quirked upward and he looked briefly triumphant before clearing his throat.

"Taking a shower, I think."

"In whose bathroom?" Lance demanded, placing down his mug. Luz smirked at him.

"Yours."

He yelped. "You let that _heathen_ use my bathroom? He-he could use up all my products? What if he knocks all them off and breaks them?"

His mirror would probably break in horror of Keith's mile-wide pores. Scandalous.

"Ay, _pobrecito_ ," Rachel cooed as she buttered a slice of toast. "Your handsome friend's using your shower, big deal. I would be happy if I had that hot piece of ass--" She dodged the stream of water Luz splashed at her.

Lance pointed the butter knife at her, trying to control his blush. "Don't ever call him that again."

"Why, is Lancey Lance getting jealous?" Marco singsonged, passing them. "Anyway, Keith has a better shot with Allura than you have with him."

"Keith's gay," Lance retorted.

"I _know!"_

Rachel and Luz cackled. Even Shiro snorted into his mug. Lance sent them all betrayed looks. He'd been here for a day and all his family members were ganging up on him. He hated them all.

"Tio Lance!" Nadia and Sylvio chorused. "Tell us about the spaceships and the monsters! Tell us about Voltron!"

Well, maybe not _all._

"Are there any embarrassing stories?" Veronica asked, as she handed out plates of scrambled eggs given by Lisa. Allura and Shiro exchanged wicked smiles, and Lance held up a hand.

"Hold that thought. Shiro, think about what you're doing," he warned. "If you tell them, I'll disown you."

Shiro just grinned. "That's not how space family works, Lance. I'm space dad, I run this ship. Anyways, we have tons, though you should ask Pidge. She would really be able to dish the dirt."

Space dad. At least he'd accepted the role, but he'd already started making bad dad jokes.

Lance made a high-pitched noise of despair but pulled his phone out of his pocket to show his niece and nephew anyways. They oohed and aahed over the pictures he showed them, and Nadia nearly went nuts when Florona was introduced as a real-life mermaid.

"Lance made a real fool of himself on that one," said a familiar voice behind them, and Lance gaped at Keith. He was fully clothed (good for his hyperactive imagination) but he was also _wet_. He was rubbing his hair with a towel as he walked in, and god, Lance wished Keith's mullet didn't look good when it was wet, but it _did_

He scowled at Keith, trying not to let his eyes wander too much. "What do you know, mullet?"

Keith sent him an amused look. "There was this girl named Nyma--"

"La la la la la l--"

Veronica muffled Lance's childish yells and smirked at Keith. "Keep going."

Lance struggled against her, but she had years of experience over him and eventually he fell still against her arms. Keith looked at Shiro, cracked a grin, and started talking. Lance would've liked to say that he blew everything out of proportion, but then again, he had actually fallen for Nyma's ruse and ended up chained to a tree. He'd been stupid.

But the way Keith's eyes twinkled at him meant that he didn't hold it against Lance.

. . .

The rest of the day had been spent in blissful nostalgia. Shiro had spent it tinkering in the garage, Lance and Rachel (the trouble twins, as they were called) took Allura, Lisa, and Veronica on a 'girl' day out at the mall, and Keith lazed around at home, helping Luz with chores and listening to music.

Luz had been surprisingly understanding about the whole thing, and was extra kind to Keith when he confessed about just wanting to stay back. She could see the forlorn look in the boy's eyes (despite him being a full grown adult) and the awkward way he conducted himself around everyone else, and instantly guessed that this was a boy without a family, and _dios mio_ , would she give him one.

Keith had instantly warmed up to her, just like how Allura adored Nadia right from the start. With his mother and dog (wolf-dog?) a thousand light-years away, he would take what he could get, and Luz was the mother he always wished for growing up.

Not that he would ever say it out loud.

And now, all of them were gathered around a small campfire that Veronica had painstakingly kindled (Marco had kept trying to help and earned himself a long-winded lecture), the excitement of the day slowly dying down. Nadia was curled between Luis and Lisa, Sylvio draped over Shiro's legs. Rachel and Veronica were sitting together, exchanging whispered conversations and giggles with Allura, and Lance and Keith sat side by side in comfortable silence.

Keith stared around the dunes of sand, at the palm trees lining the beach, and the silvery light the moon cast upon them all. How amazing would it have been to grow up with a family like this, in a home like this?

Something in his chest seized. The familiarity, the domesticity of it all was pulling at him so desperately that he could physically feel his heart twisting. He wanted something like this.

Keith looked over as Lance tapped his clenched fist.

"You okay, buddy?"

The flames cast a brilliant sunset orange glow over his features, dancing in his bright blue eyes and making his chocolate curls dark red. Almost like a halo. 

Keith tore his eyes from the sight and looked at the sparks rising from the fire instead.

"Yep."

Obviously, Lance wasn't convinced, but Sylvio chose that moment to bounce upright, almost startling the glasses off Shiro.

"Tio Lance! Can you play for us?"

It started a chain reaction among his family as everyone talked over each other and started requesting different things. Keith watched as Luz handed Lance a battered-looking guitar, plastered with different stickers. Allura looked pretty impressed, but Keith felt cheated. Lance played the guitar. That was _hot_ , for one, and the fact that he found it attractive was unfair.

He found it _attractive_.

"I haven't played in so long!" Lance protested, but gave in to Nadia's puppy eyes. He plucked absently at the strings, humming along, not seeming to have a particular song in mind. When the idea occurred to him, he glanced teasingly at Keith. "Know any good ones?"

Keith was nonplussed. "Uh, Happy Together? The Turtles?"

Lance wasn't expecting that and his eyebrows flew to his hairline. Everyone gathered closer as he bent over the guitar.

"I don't quite remember," he muttered. "But here goes. Don't judge me too hard."

Keith felt his ears burning as Lance started. He was _good._ His fingers picked over the frets and the strings, and although he had definitely lost practice and all his calluses, he was still excellent. This wasn't just muscle memory, this was _skill._

It wasn't fucking fair.

Almost involuntarily, Keith started singing the lyrics he'd memorized a long time ago, still gazing at the fire, murmuring the words under his breath.

_Imagine me and you, I do  
I think about you day and night, it's only right  
To think about the girl you love and hold her tight  
So happy together_

Lance started strumming, and Keith could feel heavy stares pinning him down (even Shiro!) but he continued. Besides, they didn't sound half bad.

_The only one for me is you, and you for me  
So happy together_

The melody changed into a familiar Spanish tune and Keith seamlessly switched after he stole a quick glance at Lance. The boy's bright blue eyes were wide and shining with happiness and wonder, and almost floored Keith with the small encouraging smile he offered.

_Así que corre corre corre corazón  
De los dos tu siempre fuiste el más veloz_

Now everyone was flat-out gaping. Keith allowed himself a small grin when Shiro looked completely thunderstruck. That was one thing Keith hadn't told anyone--that Adam Whittaker (Shiro's ex-fiance) was _Dr_. Adam Whittaker. The Garrison had mandated weekly therapy sessions with him, and one day, when an eleven-year-old Keith had heard him singing the song under his breath, he had Shazam-ed that shit and memorized it just because he liked the tune.

_Tu, el perro de siempre los mismos trucos  
Ya, ya me lo se_

Lance almost missed a beat when Keith's voice cracked--intentionally or not, he didn't know, but it did things to his stomach.

_Lo has hecho ya y la verdad me da igual  
Lo has hecho ya pero al final me da igual_

Dead silence followed the final few strains of the song.

Keith picked at his cuticles--they were in horrible shape--before biting his knuckles, waiting for someone to tell him they sounded horrible.

"Dude," Marco said, in a hushed voice. "You sing _amazing_."

Allura burst into tears onto Shiro's arm (to his evident amazement) and sobbed out her appreciation to the cold metal. Rachel cheered and Veronica and Luis exchanged knowing looks. Lisa and Luz applauded.

Lance gnawed on his lip as he took a sideways look at Keith, whose cheeks were slowly turning redder and redder. He could tell that the man was already regretting singing (and that well), not because he was letting other people in, but because of the fact that nobody would ever let him forget it.

"You don't sound bad, space cowboy."

"Shut up," Keith mumbled into his glove, and he laughed.

"Real mature." Lance was proud of the fact that his voice didn't waver at all when he looked at Keith and the stupid little ponytail he'd tied his hair in.

He was so fucked.

(Hopefully later?)

Fuck. No. Don't think about that, Lance. Shut up, horny thoughts.

He didn't know why he was being so awkward around Keith. He'd gone _years_ without even thinking of him, let alone like _that_ , and they'd lived in _space_ together, and now, Lance suddenly had a giant crush on him?

His eyes widened. _Oh no. No way._

'Crush' and Keith did not belong in the same sentence, unless Lance was crushing Keith at training or something.

Nuh uh. Begone, intrusive thoughts. Shoo.

They were _buddies_. Partners in crime. Space ranger partners. Lance and Keith, neck and neck. Mullet and sharpshooter.

Yep. That was all they were. Two people whom the universe had pushed together because it needed them, not because they needed each other. They'd met on some kind of weird coincidence. And even if they were friends now, that didn't mean Lance suddenly had to think of Keith that way.

Right? Right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have you heard Steven Yeun sing? Because he sings _exactly_ the way you'd think Keith would sing. Voice cracking left and right. He has a hot voice, man. I can't deal.


	6. Beach shenanigans

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My italics-html-skills are acting up because I'm a simple woman who just wants the highlight-italicize thing. So don't mind if a few Spanish words aren't in italics.

"Aw, you got a little necklace for your glasses."

Shiro ran a hand through his hair, looking sheepish. "Had to. They keep falling off every time I tie my shoelaces."

Lance grinned at the confession and at the wet streaks Shiro left in his silver hair. They were on the roof, and Lance had come up because he'd heard his mother shout from top. When he'd reached, Shiro was shirtless and sweaty, and Luz was standing to the side under the illusion of 'keeping an eye on the procedure.'

Keeping an eye, his ass. More like _keeping an eye on those abs of Shiro's._

Keith was muscular and shit, Lance could admit, but Shiro was fucking _ripped_. It wasn't fair that he had the hottest male teammates in the galaxy. Even unluckier that they were both gay and therefore (theoretically) an option, even if Shiro was dad-aged and thinking about him like that was nauseating.

He looked like an advertisement for Old Spice. Except the glasses hanging around his neck and resting against his bare chest. That was just _adorable._

"Mom, why are you making a guest fix our tiles?" he asked pointedly.

Shiro grinned and held up a loose tile. "It's okay. I like helping out."

He was such a _Boy Scout._

"Lance," Luz said, pointing to a small brown paper package resting on the floor. "Take that to Marco and Keith, would you? They're in the garage and forgot their lunch."

Lance eyed her suspiciously. The innocent look she was wearing wasn't fooling anybody, least of all him.

"Three lunches or two?"

"Yes."

Shiro snorted off to the side as Lance threw up his hands.

"Mami, that's not an answer."

"Just take it."

He took it.

Ulterior motive or not, homemade food was still homemade food. Besides, he needed to show that heathen a thing or two about Spanish cuisine. Lance had the feeling that if Keith could live off ramen and water, he would. Broke-college-student style.

When he reached the garage, nobody was in sight. Lance set the paper bag down on a nearby scratched and battered table and advanced inside dubiously.

The garage had many fond memories. There was the time when he'd scratched himself on some rusty metal and had to get a tetanus shot, bawling all the while. Then the time Marco had helped him build a small toy rocket. The time he'd sat with his dad and had taken apart and rewired a computer mouse.

Right now, it was empty.

"Marco? Keith?"

Someone rolled out from underneath the nearest car, and it took Lance a few seconds to process the view.

Keith.

More specifically, Keith in a navy blue tank top, shoulders bare, a red flannel tied around his waist. Lance had never noticed, but those wide shoulders were tanned and freckled.

Ah, right. The desert.

Coming back to the point. There were streaks of grime on his face, one right across his cheek. It looked unfairly hot enough to have been strategically placed there. _That _kind of magazine-hot.__

__God, Keith was going to kill him one day. Keith's face was._ _

___Dad, how did the great blue paladin of Voltron die?_ _ _

___He was a gay disaster, son. That's fucking how._ _ _

__Keith wasn't wearing any gloves and the sections of his hands that had been exposed were a darker color than the rest of his skin, unsurprisingly. There were light, silvery, thin scars peppered over his arms, like paper cuts. Most noticeably, his hair was shorter. The bangs were still there, floofy as ever, but the back--the mullet that Lance had both hated and cherished--was gone, replaced by an uneven cut that Keith still managed to pull off._ _

__God, what was it with this boy and his ability to look like one of those car-wash commercial models who sprayed water all over themselves before shaking out their hair?_ _

__Oddly specific, but okay. He was still shocked about the hair._ _

__"Are you gonna say something or keep staring?" Keith asked with a scowl, crossing his arms over his chest._ _

___Dios mio._ _ _

__Lance blurted out the first thing he could think of. "Your hair."_ _

__Keith rubbed a hand over the newly-exposed part of his neck, as if he still wasn't used to it not being covered in hair. "Yeah. That was all Mom."_ _

__" _Mom_ \--?" Lance wasn't used to getting these many shocks in so less time._ _

__Krolia walked out from behind a corrugated iron door, and Lance barely recognized her. Instead of wearing Blade armor, she was wearing a red striped shirt, loose jeans that were cuffed at the ankle, and what looked like one of Marco's old snapbacks that covered the tips of her pointed ears._ _

__She surveyed him as calmly as she would have if they were in space. "Hello, Lance. Your mother suggested that I change my clothes or I would attract stares, and I quite agree. These mom jeans work for me." She walked forward, gripped Lance's forearm in the traditional Galra greeting, and stepped back._ _

__Slowly, he became aware that both Keith and Krolia were waiting on him for a response, Keith looking especially defensive._ _

__"You made him cut his hair?"_ _

__Krolia blinked, then her mouth curved into a smile--something Lance didn't get often from her. God, how could Keith not have realized that the woman was his mother--they were different races and genders, but practically identical. She just looked like a badly-done thirty-second Photoshop version of him, and Jesus, Keith must have been either super dense or really preoccupied not to notice._ _

__"Yes." She patted Keith's head, and he rolled his eyes fondly. "It was getting rather unkempt, and although the Galra are all for excessive fur, it is not a good look on humans." She smiled at her son then walked away._ _

__"I...I see."_ _

__Hearing a small whine next to him, Lance looked down to see Blue nosing at the paper bag he held, and immediately dropped to his knees to start cooing at him. He threw the paper bag at Keith, who opened it with a look of surprise that melted into a smile as he saw what was inside._ _

__"Have you finally decided on a name?" Lance asked, when he was done petting Blue and and the wolf-dog had properly licked his face. "Or are we gonna call him Blue forever?"_ _

__"I don't know. He'll tell us his name soon."_ _

__Lance stared, but soon it dawned upon him that Keith was being completely serious. There was no trace of teasing in those violet eyes, and he didn't know whether to laugh or melt into a puddle, because it was both hilarious and fucking adorable._ _

__"Dogs can't speak, Keith."_ _

__"It's a _wolf_."_ _

__"It doesn't matter if it's a blue cosmic wolf that can teleport. You're not helping your point." Keith continued looking bemused. "Have you _ever_ had a pet before?" _ _

__

__Now he looked offended. "Yes. Have _you_ ever had a _space pet_ before?"_ _

__

__Alright, Keith had him there. But still._ _

__

__"Pets that don't count reptiles and coyotes?" Lance asked, and shot Keith a smug look when he was answered with silence. "Yeah, desert boy. I'm onto you."_ _

__

__That earned a small chuckle, and Keith squinted into the bag again. "Did Luz make this?"_ _

__

__"I don't know." Lance didn't even have to think about 'accidentally' forgetting the speculative gleam in Luz's eye when she'd told him to take the bag to Marco and Keith. He continued staring into the bag with a funny twisted expression, and Lance bristled. "If you don't like it, just give it back. You don't have to eat it."_ _

__

__"No." The man's voice sounded strangely choked. "I-I've never had packed lunches or anything given to me by a mom." Lance's heart dropped to his toes and Keith scrubbed a hand across his cheek, seeming to realize the strangely emotional moment. It also left a grease mark across his face. "Sorry. Being stupid."_ _

__

__Fuck. What did he say? What _could_ he say?_ _

__

__Luckily, Lance's panicking brain didn't need to step in, because Keith regained his composure impressively fast. He bit into the ham and cheese sandwich, and raised his eyebrows._ _

__

__"Did you make this?"_ _

__

__Lance blinked. He'd originally made it for Nadia and Sylvio the previous day, but Luz must have palmed off the same things on him and Keith. "How did you--?"_ _

__

__Keith gazed at him over the sandwich. "Only you put pepper into everything you eat. It tastes like you made it."_ _

__

__Oh, he did _not._ Excuse _him_ for missing spice when he was stuck eating space goo for four years._ _

__

__Lance huffed. "I can cook!" Keith raised an eyebrow. "Hey, my chicken enchiladas could knock your socks off." Sure, it was no _ropa vieja_ , but he could make decent food._ _

__

__Keith just smiled. "I bet they could."_ _

__

__No objection, no argument. Lance blinked._ _

__

__It was moments like these when he was reminded that twenty-one-year-old Keith who had gone through the quantum abyss was very different from the eighteen-year-old Keith he'd known. Younger Keith would never have passed up a challenge from his rival like that. The older Keith still smirked and shot him smug looks when he was proven right on something Lance was wrong, but he didn't pick fights over trivial things, nor did he rise to the bait as easily. This Keith was so markedly more mature (though still just as awkward) that Lance couldn't help noting little conversations like this and filing them away for later._ _

__

__He'd never quite realized the impact of what had happened back then. Keith had been gone for a month, maybe two, but to him and his mother, they had been gone for two _years_. Two years was _a long time_. Two years was two birthdays--two _missed_ birthdays that he hadn't gotten to celebrate with his team._ _

__

__Space had done horrible things to all of them. Lance suddenly felt the urge to shake his fist at the sky and scream, 'fuck you, outer space!' and he did so. Keith looked up at the loud shout, then chuckled._ _

__

__"You're becoming like Shiro. The other day, he actually shook his fist at some skateboarding teenagers." Keith's expression grew thoughtful. "You know, in another life, Shiro would've been some grumpy old lady with ninety cats screaming at kids to get off her lawn. I just know it."_ _

__

__Lance scoffed. "Nah, man. Shiro's definitely the sweet sort of grandma who bakes brownies and knits giant sweaters. Except he's trapped in a hot bod. Like the Mark Wahlberg of the team. Or the Rock. What's the Shiro space version of the Rock? The Asteroid?"_ _

__

__Space Rock._ _

__

__Keith looked disgusted for a second, then snickered. "Please don't call my brother that."_ _

__

__. . ._ _

__

__"For fuck's sake, just live a little, would you?"_ _

__

__"Language," Shiro called from his shady spot under the umbrella. Lance looked over and sheepishly waved at Krolia, who was also looking over her sunglasses at them. The Garrison would've flipped out if they realized that an actual alien woman was on Varadero beach, in front of everyone, but Luz had been right. Nobody was on the beach at the moment, and Krolia had just worn shorts, a red top, a very wide-brimmed sunhat (Shiro wore one too) and a pair of giant shades and waltzed out in the open._ _

__

__(It had taken the family some getting used to Krolia, but it happened eventually.)_ _

__

__(It had started with Nadia walking up and going, "If you had a tail, you could be a mermaid because you're very pretty.")_ _

__

__(And a sigh from Lance. "Well, A for effort, Nadia.")_ _

__

__Luis had insisted on taking all of them to the beach, and now, the McClains and the rest were bounding up and down the dazzlingly white sand. Sylvio and Nadia were throwing a frisbee around, playing with Blue, or Kosmo, as they called him (the name had stuck). Veronica and Allura were in matching one-piece swimsuits, tanning and chitchatting some distance away. Marco and Luis had dragged Lisa and Rachel to horse around in the water with them and promptly gotten them drenched. Shiro and Krolia had grabbed their books and were sitting under a huge beach umbrella._ _

__

__Apparently, Galra did not tan well. Nor did Shiro._ _

__

__And Lance was quickly getting impatient with Keith._ _

__

__The boy had first thrown a tantrum about putting on sunscreen, although he had turned completely red almost as soon as he'd stepped outside and it had taken Luz's firm advice that he did put it on, only so he wouldn't turn into Kentucky Fried Keith._ _

__

__Now, he was protesting about entering the water, and he was sticking to his guns._ _

__

__"Keith, nobody cares if you fall off and eat shit! I mean, sure, I'll probably hold it as blackmail over you for the rest of your life, but come on!"_ _

__

__Yeah, Lance wasn't too great at structured debate._ _

__

__Keith scowled and yanked his arm out of Lance's grasp. "I don't care, Lance! I've got more blackmail over you than the other way around."_ _

__

__"Lance!" Shiro reprimanded, his ridiculous sunhat making him lose dad cred. "He grew up in Arizona and Nebraska. Give him a break."_ _

__

__Lance gasped indignantly. "But dad--!"_ _

__

__"Yeah, Lance," Keith said pointedly, but he was smiling. "The sea is a scary place. Give me a break."_ _

__

__Lance squinted at him._ _

__

__"I was in the quantum abyss for two years and I _deserve_ a break!"_ _

__

__Krolia let out a halfhearted 'woo' of encouragement from her chair._ _

__

__"Oh, that's _so_ not fair. You can't pull that card on me." He held up two fingers to his eyes and matched them to Keith's in an _I-know-what-you're-doing_ gesture. "I got my eye on you, space cadet."_ _

__

__Keith flipped him off and trudged over to Shiro, peeling his shirt off all the same. He only paused when a very sandy Nadia let out a shriek and clapped her hand over her mouth._ _

__

__"What happened?"_ _

__

__Lance uneasily watched as Keith stiffened when he looked down at his (rock-hard) abs. Right there, somewhere near his belly button, was a four-inch wide diagonal scar like a slash down his abdomen. In bright sunlight, it was dark pink and paler in the center like half-cooked meat, raised and bumpy with jagged edges. The rest of Keith's body was covered in scars as well, including his back, but none were as attention-grabbing as the near-identical scars on his lower back and stomach._ _

__

__Luz looked horrified. "What did space do to you, _mijo_?"_ _

__

__Krolia looked slightly miffed at the term of affection, but Lance had to give it to Keith--the man had amazing reflexes._ _

__

__"It did some pretty bad things," he admitted, then hesitantly glanced at Lance from under his eyelashes, who recognized it immediately as a cry for help. He offered Keith a small smile, and Keith mirrored it, surprisingly._ _

__

__It totally didn't make his heart do backflips. Nope. None of that._ _

__

__"Last one to the water is gay!" he shouted, and took off sprinting to the shoreline. Though they didn't quite understand, Nadia and Sylvio started off after him, then Rachel, Marco, and Luis. Allura and Lisa watched, giggling. The last one to the water was Veronica, who coolly strolled over while cleaning her spectacles._ _

__

__Rachel muttered under her breath in disappointment. "She's already gay, damn it."_ _

__

__Veronica promptly splashed her._ _

__

__Shiro regarded Keith with amusement as he slumped into a chair, half under the shade of the umbrella. "You're pretty obvious, you know."_ _

__

__Keith stiffened again. "Meaning?" he asked, voice too tight to sound casual._ _

__

__"You know what I mean." Shiro and his ugly hat nodded wisely, then he shot Keith a sideways smirk. "You should tell him."_ _

__

__"Tell him what?"_ _

__

__Shiro huffed, and Krolia just let out a light chuckle at his fond exasperation. "'What he means, _caje_ , is that you should confess your obvious sexual and romantic intentions to Lance so you two can be in a committed relationship. It is quite healthy, believe me."_ _

__

__Keith would've objected to his alien mother telling him what to do when it came to romance, but this was by far the most normal thing she had said. Other disturbing things she'd relayed about Galran traditions involved being tied together and left naked in a hot spring under the full moon, or being tied together and left to fight a group of yalmors._ _

__

__(The Galra had bondage kinks, apparently.)_ _

__

__"Then comes love, then comes marriage," Shiro singsonged under his breath, and Keith thwacked him with his beach towel._ _

__

__"Lance and Keith, sitting in a tree," Krolia hummed along. "F-U-C-K-I-N-G."_ _

__

__"Mom!" Keith was scandalized as she laughed into her book and Shiro lost his shit. "Where did you learn that?!"_ _

__

__"Yeah," Shiro chimed in. "Don't think we didn't notice your little beach escapade that first night. You two fell asleep on the sofa and made it really sandy, and then there was sand in the shower when I went in after you."_ _

__

__"Cake by the ocean is not a bad thing," Krolia said, very seriously. Keith buried his head in his hands._ _

__

__"Who the fuck is _teaching_ you these kinds of things? Is it Rachel? Shiro?!"_ _

__

__Krolia, technically, shouldn't have known about the song. Pop culture was something Keith had put off on telling her about, partly because he knew next to nothing about it and partly because he felt like she would instantly switch to the Gen-Z culture, nihilistic sex jokes and all._ _

__

__They just laughed, because apparently, his despair caused them satisfaction. If it continued like this, he would lose every shred of sanity he'd built up regarding Lance over the past few days._ _

__

__Keith's head rose quickly when he remembered something. "Shiro, where are you with Adam?" He said, smirking. Just like that, the teasing look in Shiro's eyes was gone, replaced by something somber and rather depressed._ _

__

__"It's not the same, Keith."_ _

__

__"I never said it was. But if we're on the topic of confessing feelings--"_ _

__

__"So you _do_ admit it!"_ _

__

__"Fuck," Keith muttered, then continued. Whether Shiro was sharp as a whip didn't matter. "At least call him. Talk to him. You were _engaged_ , Shiro. There's no way you can go to a loving relationship to sad, single gayness without each other."_ _

__

__Shiro's grey eyes were full of pain. "It's been nine years, Keith."_ _

__

__"But you can still fix this," Keith persisted stubbornly. "You're Takashi Shirogane. You died, like, three times and here you are, Space Rock and all."_ _

__

__Shiro looked confused. "Space Rock?"_ _

__

__Keith blushed and continued, "So don't you dare tell me that you can't talk to Adam, because you've done the impossible. We've done the impossible. I fucking died--"_ _

__

__"You what?" Krolia said, yellow eyes glinting menacingly._ _

__

__"--we fly _space lions_ , Shiro. Come on. If you can fight hand-to-hand combat with a crazy eight-foot-tall alien space emperor filled with quintessence-fueled rage, then you can talk to your ex-fiance, who's normal and human and not as angry as Zarkon was."_ _

__

__Not _as_ angry, but Adam would be _mad_. Still. Anything to get that sad look out of Shiro's eyes._ _

__

__Shiro sighed. "If you talk to Lance, I'll talk to Adam."_ _

__

__Keith blinked. "I-you mean you'll do it _only_ if I talk to Lance?"_ _

__

__A small grin spread over his honorary brother's face. "Uh huh. You tell Lance how you feel, and I'll talk to Adam that same day. If you don't, deal's off."_ _

__

__Well, fuck. Now he's responsible for bringing together two idiots who can't admit that they need each other._ _

__

__Keith nodded, though begrudgingly. "Fine. But I'll tell Lance only when I'm ready."_ _

__

__And he wasn't ready, not yet._ _

__

__Shiro nodded understandingly. "That'll give me time to prepare too." He gazed at Keith knowingly. "And he looks at you the same way, so I think it'll happen faster than you expect." He winked and went back to his book._ _

__

__It left Keith reeling._ _

__

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rather a shorter chapter than usual. I can't _wait_ to write the Shadam (Adashi?) reunion. *cracks knuckles* It's gonna be _hilarious_
> 
> I'm loving the idea of Krolia learning Earth culture and instantly cracking sex jokes and things like that. _I keep on hoping we'll eat cake by the ocean_
> 
> P.S. I wrote the entire beach scene with that song in mind. 
> 
> P.P.S. 'Caje' is some 'Galran' word I made up that means 'star'. Or something affectionate. Whatever.


	7. Whoomp, there it is

The vacation was supposed to be a week long, but time passed faster than Keith liked to admit. His days were filled with helping out in the garage, bonding with Luz and Krolia, occasionally ratting Lance out to his mother when he didn't do the laundry, and generally trying to forget all that had happened in space. All the bad stuff, anyway.

It was kind of bittersweet, really. Every time he was aware of one of those intensely happy moments where he was perfectly content, like when Sylvio asked him to autograph his hat, or when Luis and Lance pranked Rachel, or Krolia and Luz tried to make some Galran delicacy, he would remember that the vacation wasn't going to last. In two days, it would end, and Keith would go back to being stressed, Shiro would go back to having that little wrinkle in his brow, Lance's eyes would lose their sparkle, and their lives would get back on their conflict-filled tracks.

And Lance, god, _Lance_.

The boy was so happy here in Cuba, with his family and the people he'd grown up with his whole life in the place he loved. In space, he was the sharpshooter and emotional support, but here, he was a son and a brother and an uncle and a friend and he was loved. Lance belonged on Earth, not in space, fighting some intergalactic war.

Keith dreaded the day when Lance realized that maybe, just maybe, they parted ways. When Lance realized that Keith belonged in the battlefield and he himself belonged at home, with his family. That day was looming up ahead, and although Keith didn't know when it was, it was definitely a giant red X on his mental calendar.

So yes, bittersweet.

. . .

Lance had kept to the mental promise he'd made Keith. They were making his famous chicken enchiladas for lunch, and Veronica was helping with the chopping since the last time he'd been handed a knife was when he almost sawed his thumb off.

All through their stay, she'd held back on grilling him about Voltron and all the things they'd done in space, but she'd always hated being in the dark, especially if it was _Lance_ of all people who knew more than her. So over the chicken, he told her, gruesome details and all.

Except Keith's death. Shiro's three near-death experiences he narrated, careful not to blow it out of proportion, but Keith's he just stuck to 'Oh, he was a little reckless on Naxzela' and 'that scar was a spear wound' and 'the one on his face was probably a sword wound.' Vague stuff like that.

Veronica continued burning with questions, but hey, they weren't his secrets to tell. Besides, telling her what Keith had done for him would bring a lump to his throat like it always did. So he stuck to telling her all the brave, daring nonsense they had done.

Veronica nudged Lance while he stirred the sauce into the chicken. "So, about Keith--"

Lance glowered at her. "Pass me the salt." She did so, and he continued stirring with slightly more vehemence than necessary.

"Lance, come on." Veronica leaned against the counter, forcing him to look her in the eyes. The fact that hers were the exact same bright blue as his didn't help at all. "A fool could see how you look at Keith. How he looks at you."

Lance averted his eyes, stirring even harder. "I don't know what you're talking about." He had the exact same approach to every problem thrown at him: turn a blind eye and pretend it didn't exist. His Voltron-sized crush on Keith was an issue that future Lance could worry about. Hah. That sucker.

He swallowed. He was aware of the crush, that was there. But what came after? Imagine calling Keith Kogane, leader of their team, his _boyfriend_.

Just the thought made him feel giddy with nerves and happiness.

"The first time you sent a message home, you ranted about Keith for ten minutes," Veronica said flatly. "And you slept on the couch with him." She leaned forward, blue eyes drilling into his, and Lance simultaneously leaned away. "How did he get that scar?"

"Face or the stomach?"

" _Lance_."

He sighed. Damn Veronica and her all-knowing gaze. She wasn't smirking or him, but there was a smug twinkle in her eye. "He took a dang spear for me, okay? I would've died if it wasn't for him."

_So there_.

Her eyes widened and she placed a hand on his shoulder. "Lance, I'm just genuinely curious. I want you to be happy, and every time you look at Keith, you look happy." She nudged Lance, pointing her chin to the dining room. "Look at him and tell me what you see."

Lance grudgingly looked.

Luz and Marco were showing Keith how to make tortillas and getting flour all over the dining table. Nadia and Sylvio were doing nonsense off to the side, both heads of curly brown hair dusted liberally with white powder. There was powder on Keith's cheek, smeared across his smooth skin. His bangs fell into his face, but there was no familiar mullet. Midnight eyes drowning in golden hour light.

As Lance watched, Luz threw a bit of flour that was supposed to land on Marco but ended up splattered across Keith's chest. His dark eyes lit up, suddenly bluer, and he took a handful of flour and swiped it across Luz's cheek. She gasped in delighted outrage, and Keith shielded himself with outstretched hands as she flicked more flour at him. Marco snickered and dodged as his mother chased after him, and Keith almost tripped over Sylvio. He caught himself just in time, and--

laughed.

Keith _laughed_.

Flour on his nose and cheek and shirt, bangs falling into his eyes. He doubled over, gasping with laughter, unrestrained chuckles bubbling out of his mouth, eyes crinkled, his solemn face lighting up like the rays of the sun curving over the horizon. Then he turned, making eye contact with Lance.

Lance froze. Keith offered him a wide smile, easy and happy and brighter than any of the stars he'd seen in space--and he'd seen some _bright_ ones.

"Well?" said Veronica's voice from next to him. Lance snapped out of his daze and looked at her. This time she was giving him one of her suggestive looks, her lips stretched into a shit-eating grin. He pushed her gently.

"Shut up."

She burst into giggles as he washed his hands, trying to ignore the flush that had reached his cheeks.

He didn't just have a crush on Keith. He was falling. In _love_.

What a nightmare.

Throughout the afternoon, Lance couldn't tear his eyes away from Keith. Couldn't stop staring or sneaking little glances, couldn't stop examining every inch of Keith's face (especially his lips), trying to convince himself that there was _no way_ he was falling for the red paladin.

And he'd finally plonked the casserole on the table, eyes fixed on Keith, waiting for his reaction and longing for him to say something sarcastic so they could fall into the old pattern he was so used to. Something that would involve Lance immediately challenging him, and then everything would be alright again, no crushes involved.

Instead, he'd gotten instant surprise, a blissful look, and a radiant look of incredulity.

_Bastard_.

So, by the way Keith acted, Lance couldn't convince himself that this was all a fever dream and he wouldn't wake up back at the castle in two ticks with Allura screaming at them for not being in uniform.

But no. His brain was broken. It must be.

There was no way that Lance had just looked at Keith and his beautiful face bathed in golden sunlight and just _decided_ that he was romantically interested. No way. Love didn't work like that. It had been proven time and time again with Allura. The results of his insta-love based solely on physical attraction were that she'd rejected him (although very politely), and he'd been heartbroken for a few days but okay in a week.

Although something told him that if he were to confess his feelings to Keith and have _Keith_ reject him, he would completely fall apart.

God fucking dammit, Lance was _screwed_.

. . .

Lance complained as Sylvio and Nadia dragged him from the garage to the shed on the other side. "Come on, guys, just get a ladder. Or Allura. She can make herself as tall as she wants."

"But Tio--!"

In the end, he couldn't refuse Nadia's puppy eyes. So he let himself be dragged to wherever the little brats wanted him to be, but instantly cringed when Sylvio pointed up at the makeshift metal airplane perched on top of a ten-foot-tall shelf. 

"Nuh uh." Lance disentangled his hand from Nadia's. "I can't reach that high. It's higher than Walmart shelves." And that was saying something.

Even when he hoisted Sylvio onto his shoulders, they barely reached the nine-foot-mark. Nadia huffed in disappointment when Sylvio got down, whining. Lance huffed as well.

"Sorry, Lupe," he said sympathetically, ruffling her brown curls. "No can do."

"What about Keith?" Sylvio suggested, and Lance paled. Without waiting for a response, Sylvio threw back his head and shouted. "KEITH!"

"What?" came a faint but distinctly grumpy tone. Keith walked around from where he'd been in the garage. "What's wrong?"

Lance shook his head violently from behind as his niece and nephew pointed at the airplane up on the shelf. Keith's eyes traveled up to it, then to Lance, and back to the twins. He seemed to be biting back a smile.

"Sorry, you two, but I can't reach that high."

"You can if you sit on Tio Lance's shoulders," Nadia suggested, and Lance froze. Veronica had somehow managed to rope the brats onto her side, he just knew it. By Keith's horrified look, he didn't like the idea of climbing Lance like a tree either. Lance couldn't judge him for that.

Although the question of _whether_ he would let Keith climb him had a different answer.

To his intense shock, Keith shrugged and looked at Lance. "Okay." Only the slight wobble of his tone gave him away. "Do--are you okay with it?"

Lance swallowed at the thought of Keith's strong thighs wrapped around his neck and imagined that soft black hair tickling the insides of his own thighs. Get a grip, Lance. You can do this.

Totally.

He managed to summon up whatever bravado he had left in him. "Come on, space cadet. Scared of heights?" That was enough to do the trick, as he knew it would. Keith's eyes lit up and he smirked.

"Not on your life, _Leandro._ "

Lance scowled and knelt. Keith hesitated for a second before he swung one leg over Lance's shoulders, then the other. His sweet peppery smell was stronger than ever and his legs were warm, but Lance pushed those thoughts aside as well as he could. He rose slowly as Keith's hands instinctively latched around his neck loosely, stumbling to the shelf.

Lance felt some of the heat leave his shoulders as Keith stretched upwards, hearing a noise of triumph as Keith grabbed the metal airplane, then stumbled slightly when Nadia stepped on his foot. That moment of distraction was enough to throw off his balance, but the yelp that escaped Keith's lips was worth it when they went down.

Sylvio and Nadia laughed maniacally as Keith's head popped up from where he was lying on the grass, legs still wrapped around Lance's shoulders. Lance himself groaned and rolled away.

"Fuck, man," he muttered, so Sylvio and Nadia couldn't hear him from where they were playing a few yards away. "You're responsible for the lump on my head." He pointed to his throbbing forehead. Keith's lips quirked up.

"Want me to kiss it better?"

His cheeks flooded with color as if he hadn't quite realized what he just said. Lance stared for a second, his heart madly fluttering like it had forgotten how to beat.

"Okay?" He managed not to sound like he was being strangled.

Keith looked shocked for a second, then smiled and leaned forward. His lips (those beautiful soft pink lips) gently brushed Lance's hairline, just barely making contact, and then he was pulling away. And then the bastard had the nerve to wink.

Lance had expected teasing, maybe. Sarcasm, even more so. But _flirting?_ Unbelievable. Nobody would ever believe him if he said that Keith had winked at him. That was Lance's job, being the smooth slick playboy, and Keith's job was to scowl, glower, and flip people off.

This was just-- _whoa_.

Lance's poor, weak heart couldn't take it. Because...yikes. How was he supposed to _not_ like Keith now?

Well, like he'd said before: he was fucked.

. . .

Keith leaned against the doorway, watching as Lance feverishly rifled through Rachel's makeup bag. He'd been only slightly appalled and more turned on by the fact that Lance had chosen to wear a tight blue crop top (that was excellent for his midriff) and a loose zip-up hoodie over it, but the fact that Lance was also putting on makeup was just too much. He was pretty sure the whole family was waiting on him at this point.

"Are you done yet?"

Lance turned to him, blue eyes narrowed. "Keith, you might not be the sharpest eyeliner in the brush kit, but at least you know that I take care of my skin."

Keith rolled his eyes at the insult and only perked up when Lance shot him a wicked grin. He was holding up two small circular boxes with transparent lids; he could just see some kind of shimmery powder encased within the glass.

Oh _fuck_.

Lance dipped his finger in Vaseline and then in the silver glitter. "Come on, Mullet. Live a little." His eyes twinkled. Keith backed away, shaking his head and shooting him warning looks that he ignored.

"I am not wearing glitter, Lance. Get that away from me." He'd meant for his voice to come out stern and firm like the leader he was, but instead it came out whiny and slightly pleading. Well, shit.

Lance's gaze softened and his finger dropped slightly. "Keith, I'm not going to smear it all over your face. Just the cheeks. It'll look good."

And, well, Keith couldn't say no when Lance was pouting at him, could he? Those bright blue eyes did things to his insides. He caved, just so he wouldn't have to see Lance shooting him puppy eyes, because fuck, all the McClain's could use that to their advantage.

"Fine," he grumbled, and let Lance advance on him. Soft fingers held his chin, tilting his face so Lance could swipe the silver glitter over his cheekbones. Lance's thin fingers were warm at his chin, leaving trails of fire everywhere they brushed, and his thin eyebrows were furrowed in concentration as he wiped off a bit of residual glitter.

Keith hated that it was ridiculously adorable.

"All done!" he said brightly, stepping away and closing the box again. Keith didn't bother to look at himself in the mirror and averted his gaze when Lance glittered his own cheekbones.

A normal Lance was one thing. Enough to get his skin tingling and blood boiling.

A dressed-up Lance was another thing. Enough to _probably_ give him semis and go completely red.

So, yeah. Emergency measures needed to be taken.

"Let's move," he said gruffly, and Lance followed him to where the rest of them were piled in Luz's van. Shiro had been brave enough to offer to DD, and Luz, Rachel, Veronica, Marco, Luis, and Allura were already squashed in (It hadn't come as a surprise when Krolia offered to stay behind with Lisa and keep her company with the kids). Keith ended up squished between Luis and Rachel, Lance on Veronica's lap.

They teased him endlessly about the glitter that decorated his face, and Shiro had taken a peek into the rearview to send Keith a knowing glance, but Lance had just brushed it off like getting the grumpy Keith Kogane to wear glitter on his face was no biggie. _He looked good anyway_ , was his claim.

It wasn't like Lance looked like a Greek God with gold on his lips, eyelids, and cheekbones.

But anyways.

When they reached the place, the bouncer had barely taken a glance at Veronica before letting them all into the dark hall, already buzzing with spinning bodies and thumping music. Veronica looked like a bouncer herself, despite the fact that she was wearing a tight navy dress that hugged every single curve. Her glasses were gone, and her expression was so intimidating that nobody dared to approach her.

Keith had no idea who had proposed for the McClains to wear all blue. It was like they'd split into teams--Lance and his family were wearing blue, or clothes with blue highlights. Keith, Shiro, Allura, and Luz (she'd offered to balance them out) were wearing red. It had been some unanimous agreement that neither Keith nor Lance were privy to, but they looked great, so who was he to object?

Rachel's only response was to shout out for a cocktail and wink at him. "If it's red and blue, it's gay."

Luz shot him an apologetic smile and dragged Rachel away before she could say anything else.

Keith just slouched down on his seat next to the bar. They knew something he didn't, and he didn't like that. When Lance approached him, nabbing a bar stool for himself, Keith tried his best to maintain a neutral, unbothered expression.

Trying not to be fazed by the excellent gene pool all the McClains shared, because _fuck_.

"What's crackalackin'?" Lance said, by way of greeting, obviously a little tipsy. "Why does the red paladin look so down in the dumps?"

Keith just scowled at the glass in his hand, the buzz of alcohol too much to say something sassy. "I'm not _down in the dumps_."

Lance made it sound like he was moping. What could he even be moping over? The fact that once they got back to the Garrison, the easiness between them would disappear?

Well...

"Whoomp," Lance mumbled, sending Keith a conspiratorial smile. Keith rolled his eyes and sighed.

"There it is."

"I feel like you could've used a little more 'oomph' on the whoomp."

He narrowed his eyes and drained his glass. "That's the oomphiest whoomp you're going to get."

Lance laughed. "Aren't you gonna dance? No moping allowed here."

"I'm not moping," Keith mumbled against the rim of his glass, like a liar. He was totally moping, and the way Lance squinted at him told him he knew that. He didn't expect Lance's hand to close around his wrist and drag him off the stool. Keith yelped as Lance pulled him through the crowd, far away from the amused bartender who whispered 'get some' under her breath. 

Lance dragged him all the way to where Rachel, Luis, and Luz were having fun. Keith laughed as he started dancing ridiculously, shaking his hips over a giggling Rachel who played along. Luz had pulled Shiro onto the floor, trying to help him find _some_ sense of rhythm. Shiro ended up dancing like a middle-aged white dad straight out of knee-replacement surgery.

(Keith had taken several blurry pictures.)

"I'm not going all Shakira," he warned, and Lance stumbled forward as someone pushed him. By this time, Rachel and Luis had danced away, and Keith couldn't see anyone he knew. So when Lance was pressed flush against him, he didn't exactly have to watch out.

Lance's hands found their way to his waist, as if on an afterthought, and Keith stared up at Lance as they leaned into each other. His cheekbones still shone with a sheen of gold, like dragon scales under the flashing strobe lights, and Keith saw stars in Lance's bright blue eyes before he realized that it was actually the glitter dusted over his own cheeks.

He didn't even realize they were _swaying_.

It was ridiculous, come to think of it. The song was much peppier than their slow-dancing required, but there they were, moving back and forth under the cover of darkness like they were encased in their own little bubble, their own pocket of time where everything else swirled around them in blurs of color, but Keith didn't pay attention to it.

Instead, he paid attention to the way Lance's eyes were flicking from his own eyes to his lips.

He didn't know who had initiated it anyway. All he knew was Lance's head dipping and Lance's lips catching his own, and then they were kissing. He tasted like beer and glitter and sea salt, the taste and smell Keith had come to associate with him.

Like all first kisses, it was sloppy and messy and needy. They tripped over their own feet and over the feet of the other people in the club. Keith's hand slipped from Lance's to his stomach, pressing fingertips against the defined muscles there, thanking whatever god up there that Lance was wearing a crop top. Lance's hands went to Keith's hair, tangling his fingers in the silky dark strands and tugging slightly.

All the while, their lips didn't leave each other.

Then finally, Keith came to his senses. He'd been intoxicated all this while--not just on rum and coke or whatever Veronica had handed him, but on _Lance_. On Lance's smell, his taste, his eyes, his laugh. Now, sobriety crashed into him and he realized what he was doing.

Lance still looked dazed and stunned when Keith pulled away, leaning forward to chase Keith's lips but pouting when he didn't get them. Keith refused to be softened by the pout, but it was uphill work.

They hadn't stopped to take a breath. Lance was breathing heavily. "What are y-"

Keith ignored the sick feeling of wrongness flopping about in his stomach and took a step back.

"I-I'm sorry. I don't know why I did that."

Then he turned and pushed through the crowd without looking at Lance, blindly trying to find Shiro.

Lance didn't try and follow him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *in DJ Khaled voice* And another one
> 
> Is this angst? _More_ angst? 
> 
> Hm, who knows. 
> 
> P.S. Don't worry, fluff ahead. 
> 
> P.P.S. I think the beginning was angsty enough.
> 
> P.P.P.S. I won't add any more angst.


	8. End of the line

Lance's head was spinning. His mind was struggling to keep up, so he went over what he'd done that evening.

Put makeup--put makeup on Keith--gone to club--danced in club--kissed Keith--watched Keith leave.

That was where his brain ground to a stop, trying to make sense of all that had happened. Keith's name had popped up in those proceedings three times too many, but did Lance regret kissing him?

No.

It looked like Keith didn't think the same, though.

Kissing him had been a surreal experience. Lance could hardly believe that it had happened--the champion of emotional constipation was making out with him in public. Keith Kogane.

They had been clumsy, but they'd done it. One minute, Lance had been admiring the shape of Keith's lips, and the next minute, those lips were moving in sync with his. Keith had tasted like cinnamon, that sweet and spicy smell Lance had noticed a long time ago. He'd tasted like rum and cinnamon and deliciously _Keith_.

Lance had finally run his hands through the dark silk of Keith's hair, mainly because he didn't need an excuse anymore. Keith's own fingers had scraped his abs, leaving trails of fire wherever they touched. It was a dizzying, electrifying thing--Lance had practically been drunk on Keith, on his heady taste and shy smile and his beautiful indigo eyes flecked with violet.

But then Keith had pulled away, and whatever warmth Lance had felt had been pulled away as well. His eyes had been conflicted, his whole expression troubled.

And then he'd just turned and left.

Just left Lance there, with a semi and confusion rife in his mind.

. . .

It took Lance some time to notice that Keith wasn't making eye contact.

His family members didn't quite notice. Rachel, Marco, and Luis were completely hammered, and Luz, Veronica and Allura were tipsy enough to sit at the back of the car, arguing among themselves in low voices and occasionally bursting into giggles. Keith had nabbed shotgun next to Shiro, who was the most sober of them all, but Lance's sobriety could probably contest that. Being left reeling was a good way to regain common sense again.

Only Veronica (now bordering sober) had noticed his sour mood and tickled him slightly before rounding on Allura, who turned out to be extremely ticklish.

_Was Keith ticklish?_

After the initial shock had worn away, Lance found himself getting angrier. Well, not angry angry, but upset and mad. What right did Keith have to just kiss him out of the blue, infiltrating his emotions and thoughts and everything, and then push him away? What right did Keith have to play with his feelings?

Scratch that, Lance was _furious_. Furious at himself for falling for Keith. Furious that Keith didn't even give him an explanation before just abandoning him. Furious that it hurt so much.

He stared into the rearview mirror, and the next time he caught Keith taking a peek, he shot him his deadliest, coldest, most withering glare, and felt a kind of bitter satisfaction to see Keith's indigo eyes flicker with hurt before he tore his gaze away.

_Coward_ , his glare said. _You're a coward_.

He ignored Keith for the entire drive back home, shooting him glares when they did make eye contact. When they'd reached, it was past midnight, and Shiro herded the McClains into the house with as little noise as possible.

Lance couldn't even laugh when his mother was too drunk to stand. Rachel threw an arm around her mother and the two stumbled up the stairs, laughing and intermittently cursing in Spanish. Allura promptly fell asleep at the dining table as soon as she sat down, and Lisa just shrugged, promising to wake her up in the morning. Luis and Marco bellowed with laughter until Krolia solemnly told them off, and then they crashed into the same bunk bed and fell unconscious on top of each other.

And Keith?

Lance watched as Keith stood in the middle of the living room for the whole time, looking lost, then crashed onto the couch and buried his head in his hands. Shiro gave Lance a sympathetic look before walking up the stairs to give the two some space.

The man had probably known from the start.

Lance plonked himself on the other end of the couch, trying not to feel queasy at the emptiness of the space between them. Even if they were just five feet apart, Keith looked a million miles away.

"What the hell is your problem?" Like a lot of the things he said to Keith, it came out hostile, sounding a lot like what Garrison Lance would've said to a younger, more immature Keith. It was the question of someone who didn't know what to do, and Lance _didn't know what to do_.

Keith raised his head and uncovered his face, and for the first time, Lance saw how tired he looked. He felt slightly guilty for a second, but then that guilt was overridden by the fact that Keith deserved it one hundred percent.

"I'm sorry." The words were wobbly, like he was choking back tears. Lance just folded his arms and slouched.

"Spit it out."

"I just--" Keith gestured uselessly, looking drained of energy. "We're going back tomorrow, and I--I don't--"

Lance frowned. "So what if we're going back?" He'd moved closer on the couch without meaning to, and now was peering at him. "Do you not want to go back?"

"No!" A bit of the old Keith returned, by the way he quickly spat out the word. Keith turned towards him, violet eyes glistening with something desperate and troubled. "I--you know how--ugh, this is so hard to explain."

Lance waited, and eventually Keith gathered himself enough to speak.

"I kind of have abandonment issues. I guess you know that, what with Mom leaving and Dad dying." Lance did know that. He'd watched Keith's vlog, even if he wasn't supposed to, because the idiot had left it recording.

"And ever since we came, it's kind of been like a dream, you know? I'm having the time of my life, but I know it's gonna end. I was wondering why you would ever leave this place. I mean, it's heaven here. You have your family and everything. I thought--I thought that you would think you belonged _here_ instead of the team, and you would stay. And-and I've been trying so hard not to get attached, you know, but it was impossible. So--" Keith's voice was rough and hoarse, conveying exactly how torn he felt. "So I can't throw myself into it when you're just going to leave anyway."

Lance suddenly understood.

Well, it wasn't like Keith was doing a great job at explaining, but he understood.

It was an attempt at self-preservation, no matter how pathetic or selfish it seemed. As far as Keith knew, that was probably the first and last time he was going to kiss Lance, or even see him, and what with the history of people leaving him, he thought that Lance was about to leave him too, so he would just spare himself the heartache. Keith wasn't being an idiot because he regretted it. He was being an idiot because he was _terrified_.

Lance found his voice after a few seconds. "You moron."

Keith looked away in shame, picking at a loose thread on the armrest.

"You absolutely fucking _pendejo_." Lance scooted closer and yanked Keith towards him. "I'm not gonna leave."

Keith blinked owlishly, and Lance had to admit, his confusion was adorable. "You aren't?"

"No!" Frustration was leaking through his words, mixed with fondness. "I'm here to stay. I'm not going to leave you. I've stuck through with the team, with _you_ through all this shit. Besides, you kind of left first."

Keith rolled his eyes, even from where he was leaning on Lance, who tightened the arm around him.

"You promise?"

"Yeah, I promise." There was a brief pause. "So that's the only reason you left me in the lurch?"

Keith's head bonked Lance's chin as he sat up. " _Only_?" He repeated indignantly. Lance let out a grunt of pain and massaged his chin.

"I mean, that's a pretty pathetic reason to leave a dude with a boner in the middle of a dance club."

Keith barked out a laugh and his head thunked back down on Lance's shoulder so hard it hurt. "Shut up, Leandro." The blush spattered over his cheeks didn't go unnoticed.

"Look at me, falling for a heartless emo like you. Whatever has the world come to."

"Sounds like my humor is rubbing off on you."

"You know what else you can rub off on m--fuck!" Keith slammed an elbow into Lance's ribs, and he wheezed. "Jeez Louise, okay. No need to be violent."

They stared at each other for a while, then Lance found Keith's lips covering his own. It was a less messy kiss, but still uncomfortable because of the weird way Keith was half on his lap, half off. It was only a kiss, though, even if it devolved to be slightly more groping than just kissing. There was no talk about what they were, or what they could be. There was just _now_ and _Keith_. Nothing else. Nothing in between.

Like oh-so-fateful that night a week ago, they fell asleep on the couch, but this time, Keith was flat against Lance's chest, arms on either side, and Lance was draped over the armrest.

They drifted off to the sound of each others' heartbeats.

. . .

Keith jolted awake to the sound of Lance's snores.

He would've liked to say that Lance was a cute snorer, but _nope_. These were snores that shook the whole couch, sounding like they could drown out a hurricane. It could contest Shiro's, who snored like there was no tomorrow.

He grinned at the sight.

One of Lance's eyes snapped open and he shot Keith a lazy grin, the visible sliver of crystal blue iris twinkling. "You checking me out?"

Keith immediately scowled. "You snore."

"You drool," Lance countered, sitting up slightly so Keith slid off. He groaned as he cracked his neck and rolled his shoulders, probably sore from sleeping on the hard end of the couch. At the slight movement, Keith's head instantly started pounding, like his brain had just being kicked across a soccer field by a particularly unskilled peewee player and then unceremoniously tossed back.

The sour expression that Lance was wearing said the same thing about his head.

"Oh, good, you two are awake," Rachel muttered, walking past them and slumping into the nearest armchair. "Mami, the boyfriends are awake!" The noise set Keith's skull rattling.

Lance went red. "Boyfriend?"

Keith couldn't blame him. While the thought of calling Lance his boyfriend made fire erupt in his veins, they hadn't really agreed on a name.

Rachel stared at them with a deadpan expression that could rival Keith's, her grumpiness accentuated by the dark rings under her eyes. "Then what is he, your _man pal?"_

Keith choked and buried his face in Lance's shirt again, inhaling the familiar scent of whatever laundry detergent they used. "Boyfriend is fine."

Silence followed his statement. Keith looked up to see Lance staring down at him. Slowly, Lance's lips stretched into a suggestive grin.

"Domestic PDA, huh? Me likey."

Keith didn't know why he had to fall for _Lance_ , of all people. The boy was _infuriating_ and the worst thorn in his side. But then again, he was kind, generous, handsome, and did things to Keith's insides, so the pros probably outweighed the cons.

So he just gave Lance a dark look. "Shut up."

Rachel chuckled then immediately winced.

Over the next hour, the other family members slunk down the stairs, all with faces like death. The ones with more willpower applauded the late risers, as Lisa and Luis doled out mugs of black coffee and toast, even though Allura had claimed that the thought of eating made her want to launch herself into a weblum. Keith couldn't agree more. Even Lance, who spent the morning hungover and grumpy (although along with Keith) didn't protest at the sight of the sugarless strong black coffee that he'd said was only for monsters without souls.

When hungover, everyone was a monster without a soul.

One good thing came out of it, though. Keith got to see Allura and Shiro disheveled and disgruntled, their respective white locks tousled and tangled. Allura's stylish bob was askew, and Shiro looked like he'd undergone Galra torture all over again.

Oh, and Lance being his boyfriend, of course.

They took that gracefully. When Nadia observed that Tio Lance was holding Keith's hand, all their lips had twitched and Luz and Krolia had looked particularly wicked, but they'd taken it well.

That is, until Marco fell asleep on his toast and the rest burst out in a gale of laughter that Keith suspected they'd been holding in since they'd broken the news. Krolia looked amazed.

The rest of it was a flurry of motion. They packed. Keith didn't have much to pack anyways, and nor did Shiro or Allura, but Lance spent a long time shut up in his room before he came out with a bulging suitcase that Keith eventually sat on and helped him close when it burst open. They assembled in the living room, Shiro, Allura, Keith, Lance--not in their paladin armor, but with their weapons tucked away regardless.

"How are you feeling?" Shiro asked. He'd gotten his fluffy hair under control, but now it just looked stupid.

"Dead."

"Same."

Keith gave him a side-eye as Lance said goodbye to his family, teary on Sylvio's and Nadia's part. "So...I held up my part of the deal."

Shiro registered this only a second later, and looked confused. "What--oh." It dawned upon him, and he paled. "Oh no."

Keith would've grinned slyly at him, but his head hurt too much. So he settled on sending Shiro a smug look, one that was payback for the many smug looks he'd received over the vacation.

"Oh _yeah_. Adam's gonna be _so_ mad."

He could've _sworn_ that Shiro started sweating.

But he didn't get to gloat because the McClains converged on him, Shiro, and Allura right at that moment. Rachel and Lisa hugged Allura, telling her that they would be open for another girls' day out next time she visited. Luz embraced Shiro ('This house is always open to the paladins') and Keith ('Thank you for loving my son') in turn, and then Keith was flanked by Veronica, Marco, and Luis. They cracked their knuckles, giving him their most menacing looks, but then Lance elbowed through the crowd, telling them that his _boyfriend_ had fought against evil purple aliens and exploding planets and that they didn't stand a chance. But even then, Keith was grateful.

Finally, they stood in front of Red on one of the sand dunes as she opened her mouth and roared, not having seen her paladins in a week. Sylvio and Nadia squealed, and the rest were awestruck, but Lance just nudged Keith.

"You always wanted a family like this, right?" He asked, with a slight grin. "They're yours now. Congratulations, your future in-laws love you."

Keith snorted. "Aren't you getting a little ahead of yourself?" But he had to tamp down the overwhelming feeling of happiness anyway, otherwise he probably would've smothered Lance in it.

"Ha, as if. I'm dramatic and overcompensating. Shape up, space cadet." 

Keith just bumped his shoulder against Lance's and all of them headed into the red lion. He'd finally found his family and finally knew what he wanted.

He'd seen Shiro frowning at his phone a few hours ago, a notification from Iverson about the rumor of some Galra forces being mobilized. He knew they were needed back at the Garrison, knew that Voltron was needed, knew that the Coalition was already readying itself.

But in the midst of it all was a strange sort of tranquility and acceptance. Sendak would come. The Galra would come. Humanity would be hurt, and people would lose their lives. But all through it, the paladins of Voltron could be counted on, and just like that, Keith knew he could count on Lance to be by his side so they could fight together.

He didn't know when it would happen, but it would.

And he and Lance would be with each other till the end of the line.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear these chapters are getting smaller. Anyways, I think this is probably the third-last chapter. Originally, I didn't know how long it would be, but now I think it'll be ten chapters. Including the epilogue, which I am _so_ excited for. Buckle up, folks.


	9. The end of the end

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is slightly longer compared to the other ones because it used to be two parts, but then I didn't want to make it more than ten chapters, so I squished it together. Mind the time skips.

Slowly, the Coalition began to arrive.

The Blade of Marmora. Matt Holt and his rebel fighters. Commander Bogh and other Galran allies. The other paladins.

Pidge and Matt had one of their mushiest reunions yet and instantly went back to hemming and hawing over Beezer, whom Nyma and Rolo had brought along. Kolivan smiled at Keith and almost pumped his hand off. Hunk squashed Lance in joy. Coran emerged from an Altean vessel, Romelle on his tail, and they embraced Allura, informing her that her haircut was 'what Earthlings called sexy'. Just as the sun dipped below the horizon, the Olkari emerged in a ship of their own. Pidge went crazy for a completely different reason.

The Nebraskan sand hills were covered in people and spacecrafts, as far as the eye could see.

It hadn't come as a surprise to Keith, who knew that the entire galaxy was aware about the threat Sendak and Lotor were posing to intergalactic peace. It was no shock that they could instantly scramble their fighter pilots, that they had plans and weapons ready to go, that Olkarion had started developing bombs a billion times more powerful than nukes.

What was surprising was how much Earth seemed to know about it.

Humans and aliens started filtering into the Garrison, and reporters lined the roads to the Garrison entrance, clicking away as the paladins descended from their respective lions and walked in, accompanied by rebel fighters and Blades.

Keith found it unnerving. Suddenly, they were in the public eye, and after being so inconsequential and unknown for so long, they were the heroes of a planet. _Their_ planet.

He almost jumped when someone linked their pinky with his. Lance, who looked surprisingly calm for a key player in the Voltron Coalition, smiled.

"You look tense."

"I'd be stupid if I wasn't," Keith retorted, looking around the the awed cadets, open-mouthed officers, and Pidge, striding ahead. She looked very unimpressed. "I missed this."

"What, fame?"

"No, being a paladin." Lance sneaked a peek at Keith, whose face was open and genuinely honest. "I guess the fame comes with it, but I missed this. This, and peanut butter, and you, and the Garrison's horrible vending machines."

Lance squinted. "Way to keep that smooth, space cadet."

Keith let out a rough bark of laughter, and they walked into the Garrison together. The team was instantly beset upon by the MFE fighters, who greeted them like old friends (which they were). Pidge and Leifsdottir went to analyze the specs, Nadia and Ryan fell upon Allura and Hunk, and Lance shot Griffin a nasty look. Keith stifled a chuckle and tugged lightly at his hand.

"That's not gonna help now."

"Doesn't matter," Lance muttered mutinously, as he was dragged away. "I still wanna bash his head in."

Keith dragged him away from Griffin, who looked rather intimidated by the fact that Lance was six foot one, towered over him, and carried an assault rifle.

At the center of the hall, right where everyone was dispersing, Shiro halted with a look of absolute terror on his face. Everyone walked ahead, but Lance glanced back curiously. Then he froze and tugged on Keith's hand so they both could gawk at what was happening.

A tall, thin, lanky man, standing in the middle of the archway, wearing the olive green tunic of a senior Garrison officer, with three gold bars on the shoulders. Windswept brown hair. Half-moon spectacles perched on the end of his nose. Arms crossed, jaw set, and deep brown eyes burning with anger.

"Adam," Shiro murmured. Lance shot Keith an incredulous look, mouthing _holy shit_ and clawing at him.

Keith hadn't seen Adam Whittaker in a long time. His old counselor hadn't aged a day, despite it being more than six years since he'd seen him. His face was the exact same, if not more intense and irate.

"Shiro," Keith urged. "Say something."

But Shiro was rooted to the ground, expression like a deer in headlights and lips pursed tightly. After several seconds of tense silence that passed way slower that it should have, Adam began marching towards Shiro, looking more menacing than Zarkon and his thousand armies.

"Nine _fucking_ years, Takashi."

Lance and Keith oohed simultaneously at the use of the full name. They both knew what it meant: Shiro was in deep shit.

Adam's stone cold expression broke into one of fury as he prodded Shiro in the chest, very hard. "What do you have to say for yourself?"

"The universe was in trouble?" Shiro tried, very tentatively, very breathlessly. Keith winced and Lance dragged a hand down his face.

Adam glared at Shiro, and started talking very fast. "You died, but then you didn't. And then you came back, but then you were kidnapped. And then you died _again_ , but some weird space princess brought you back to life. And then the entirety of Voltron disappeared, and you came back to Earth, but instead of coming by to say hi, you left! _Again_!" He looked two ticks away from strangling Shiro. "I should have murdered you when I had the chance."

Keith had never seen Adam lose it before. He'd always been calm and composed, especially with Shiro, even if he was a little too blunt and sarcastic for some people's taste. Never explosive, and he never flew off the handle. Shiro kind of deserved the first class lecture, though. After running a house full of reckless teenagers for so long, he deserved another adult telling him off for ruining his own life.

By now, Lance was watching the train wreck of a conversation through his fingers like a horror movie, though Keith couldn't blame him. He too wanted to smash Adam's and Shiro's heads together and yell 'just kiss already' at the top of his lungs. If it had been Keith and Lance in their place right now, Pidge would probably have already done it.

Adam put his hands on his hips, sending Shiro a death glare that he was completely unfazed by. In fact, Keith wasn't sure he'd ever seen someone who looked more starstruck and captivated than Shiro looked at that moment. He practically had hearts in his eyes.

"So now what excuse do you have?"

"None," Shiro said honestly. "But I'm here to stay."

Adam leaned back, features shifting uncertainly, his anger visibly waning. "You--you are?"

"If I say yes," Shiro said slowly, one hand wrapped around the index finger Adam had jabbed into his chest. "Will you marry me?"

Lance choked on air. "Bold fucking move."

Adam looked stunned for a second and then deadpanned, "That was the shittiest proposal of the century, Takashi."

"Dinner, then?"

Keith had to give to him. Shiro certainly knew how to do things his way.

Adam huffed and yanked Shiro by the collar so they were brushing noses, sounding mad even if his features had softened considerably. "Seven pm. Don't be late." He marched away.

"Where?" Shiro called.

"Our spot!" Adam's voice echoed distantly.

Shiro stood there for a second with the most stunned expression on his face, as if he couldn't believe what had just happened. Then he turned around and beamed at Keith and Lance, who were still shell-shocked.

"That," Lance said slowly. "Was the most unromantic thing I've seen you do."

"I know, right!" Shiro was grinning from ear to ear. "But he agreed to go out with me, so it's basically a yes to marrying me."

Lance and Keith choked at the same time.

. . .

Prep was stressful. Not only did strategy have to be discussed, but evacuation methods, fail-safe tactics, defense operations, and fighter pilot debriefing needed to be handled. Shiro, as captain of the Atlas, had thoroughly drilled the MFE fighters, while Keith, captain of Team Voltron, grilled the paladins. Then came the Garrison meetings.

Lance quickly found himself getting bored. He'd stayed alert through the Atlas and Voltron debriefing; one, because Shiro would've lectured him if he fell asleep. Two, because his boyfriend was standing up there in front of everyone, wearing his red paladin uniform, looking commanding and grudgingly proud of what he was doing.

He had to admit: Bossy Keith was insanely hot.

But now, they were getting into technical stuff, and the same old thing was happening: Pidge and Sam Holt were spewing tech jargon that went way over his head and the Garrison officials like Sanda were refusing to actually believe certain facts. The usual.

After a week's vacation of relaxing and happiness, it was hard to get back into the old routine again, especially when he just longed to fall asleep on his couch back at home with Keith's nose pressed against his neck, but it couldn't be helped. Lance knew that as well as anyone. Even if they were prepping, it was only a matter of time before danger was delivered to their doorstep. All they had to do was excel at the waiting game.

And today was likely to be the last day they'd get without any battles. So what was Lance's solution?

Alcohol.

As soon as Team Voltron stepped out of the conference room, they encountered a small refreshments table Lance had dragged up to the door, and it was covered with red Solo cups and alcohol.

Shiro frowned. "Lance, we're not supposed to get drunk on duty." He grabbed the cup out of Pidge's hands. "No underage drinking condoned here."

"But Dad--"

Coran secretly handed it back to her when Shiro wasn't looking.

Lance waved his hands. "Relax, I got permission from Commander Holt. You actually really underestimate how much he doesn't give a shit for the rules."

Allura peered into a tequila-filled cup as well. "And what do we do?"

Their attention was grabbed by Keith, who beckoned. "This way, you all."

Shiro huffed and followed Keith past the staircase, into the fire exit, up a few flights, and onto the roof. Everyone made 'wow's and 'ohmygod's and in Allura's case, 'quiznak's as they stared up at the clear starry sky.

"Look at that," Pidge said wonderingly. "Those are the last free skies we'll see in a long time."

Hunk was already pointing out the constellations to Coran and Allura and eliciting protests, because there was _no way humans had constellations in the shape of a big and little bear_.

Lance sneaked a sideways look at Keith and almost toppled over when Keith sent him a small smile.

Damn. He'd seriously underestimated how much he was utterly in love with Keith. This boy would be the death of him, just as he suspected.

"Alright, circle up, folks," Lance said suddenly, just so he could take his own mind off Keith and his adorably crooked grins. "Never have I ever. Let's do this."

There was a brief scuffle before everyone plonked themselves down with their drink of choice. If there was something Lance knew about his team, it was which one of them liked which drink and what type of drunk they were. Shiro preferred vodka, and apparently was a depressed drunk. Coran was a thoughtful drunk. Allura was a mean drunk. Pidge liked nunvill, and was a loud, irrational drunk. Hunk, whom Lance once got hammered on red wine, was even more emotional than usual. Keith liked soju, and was the most sober drunk Lance had ever met, which was disappointing on _so_ many levels. Lance himself was a quiet drunk when provided enough tequila.

"Never have I ever--" Allura was already slurring her words. She threw Shiro a sly look. "--died."

Shiro and Keith took giant gulps.

"Never have I ever," Pidge said next, sounding surprisingly awake. "Had a one-night-stand."

Everyone but Pidge took a sip. She looked grumpy. "You too, Princess?"

"What do you think Lotor was?" Allura asked snarkily. Coran spat out some of his drink back into his glass.

Hunk went next. "Never have I ever," he said loudly, raising his glass. "Sent someone a naughty pic."

Coran took a gulp. They oohed.

It went on like this for a long time. Lance lost track of how many gulps he'd taken, but by the end, all their cups were empty and everyone was properly pissed. They slumped against each other on the roof, just looking up and watching the stars. He nudged Keith, whose indigo eyes were slowly clouding over.

"What's cookin', good lookin'?" So _maybe_ drunk Lance was also more flirtatious than usual.

"I've always wanted to have sex under the stars," Keith murmured dreamily, and Lance snickered.

"We could do that when we defeat Sendak."

Keith nodded solemnly, eyes still turned to the heavens. "Definitely. Put it on the bucket list."

A pause.

The thing about alcohol was that it meant people could breach all these sensitive topics without feeling any embarrassment or the need to be delicate at all. It meant that everything was funny.

Keith sneaked a peek at Lance, his lips quirking upward. Then the two of them burst into secretive, mostly-silent giggles.

Pidge had spoken truly. It was their last night under peaceful skies.

. . .

The next day, the sirens wailed in the early evening.

The Atlas's hallways were bathed in flashing red lights.

Just like that, everyone burst into action. Officers rushed off to the command center to their positions, mission control raced to the deck, the MFE fighters charged off to their planes, and the paladins jumped into their lions. It was a knee-jerk reaction to everything they'd been told over the past few days, every single command that had been drilled into their heads. It didn't matter if most of them were running only on caffeine fumes; it was all automatic, done without a thought due to all their intensive training.

Lotor was here.

"Paladins, get to your lions!" Shiro ordered, as soon as he reached the deck. They'd already left, and were gathered in the hangar where all the lions were parked. It was eerie to stand there, all of them, in the wide circle that the snouts of the lions formed. Even eerier to for Keith to stand there, looking at the determined faces of his friends and teammates.

"Okay, team," Keith began, and four pairs of eyes, of all colors, snapped to him. "I know I haven't been the best leader, but right now, we need each other. We might not be the best warriors in the universe or as skilled as the old paladins, but we're all Earth's got. And I'm going to do my damned best to make sure that we do whatever it takes to keep our planet safe. Are you with me?"

Lance smiled, looking at the sun slowly setting over Earth. If everything went right, they would live to see many more sunsets. "Yes sir."

"We're with you," Allura said solemnly. Pidge nodded.

"Whatever it takes," Hunk echoed. Keith smiled. There was something to be said about leading a group of people who not only knew you, but believed and trusted and would follow you anywhere.

"Get into your lions."

The eyes of the lions glowed gold in the light of the fading sun, and Black lifted its snout to the heavens and roared.

"Form Voltron!"

Lance smiled as the lions converged. He'd given Keith a good-luck-helmet-bonk as they'd separated, because a kiss felt too much like a goodbye. Besides, he'd missed this. He didn't miss war, but he missed fighting. He missed battle and the thrum of adrenaline through his veins. He'd missed working with a team who knew him inside out and being part of something much, much bigger than him. He'd missed that little thrill every time Voltron achieved a victory.

And now he had it.

Everyone back at the deck smiled as Pidge let out several loud whoops over the comms. Keith's face, covered with his helmet, had popped up on the screen.

"Captain, Voltron has left the Atlas."

Shiro wore a proud smile. "Excellent, Keith."

But their high spirits wore off as they left Earth's atmosphere, instantly feeling that familiar feeling of zero gravity. The enemy ships and crafts were blotting out the stars and the moon, and their tempers were slowly rising.

Around Voltron, Earth's defense forces started converging. USA. Canada. Russia. China. India. Japan. Europe. South America.

For once, humanity had a common enemy.

Lotor and whoever was with him had an audience. The bastard's face popped up on all their screens only a few seconds later. Contrary to his usual collected appearance, this Lotor looked like he'd been stuffed into a washing machine that had been turned to spin cycle. His white hair was mussed, the slit pupils of his eyes dilated, and his fangs were sharper than normal. He'd followed the exact same path Honerva had.

"Long time no see, paladins." His voice was as smooth as usual, but he looked one tick away from exploding like a time bomb. "How are you, Champion?"

"Different black paladin now," Keith said evenly. "You're a little behind on the times."

"Too behind to know that we have a different boss man now," Hunk chimed in.

"Yeah, fuck off," Lance snapped, and Keith could feel how he was seething. Somehow, when he looked at Lotor, he felt nothing. No anger. Maybe a little pity. But really, all Keith felt was a cold, merciless desire to eradicate the enemy ships and wipe Lotor out from existence. That feeling of single-minded ruthlessness was what allowed him to look Lotor in the eye (well, on screen anyway) and not lose it.

"Enjoy these moments, paladins," Lotor said, lifting his chin. "These will be your last."

With that, the army fell upon them.

Earth had been ready. So was Voltron.

They got down to business and immediately started flaying everything in their path that was black and purple. Annihilating everything in sight was strangely exhilarating. It was an anger outlet for most of the paladins, and they gave it their all. Blue and Red froze and melted, Green and Yellow crashed through everything and electrocuted it for good measure, and Black dragged its claws through everything.

Lotor had plans, though. He had ships. Those ships did what they were told to do. But the paladins weren't just kids this time. They were _furious_ , and when they were furious, everything in sight either had to stand down or choose death. No in-between.

But the mother ship, the one that held Lotor and everything he stood for, was protected by a barrier ten times stronger than that covering Earth. There was no way they'd be able to breach it, unless--

"Paladins!" Shiro's voice crackled over the comms. "Ryner has designed an explosive that's ten times more powerful than the nuclear bomb, very similar to that of Naxzela, although it can be contained. I placed it in the hold of the red lion--"

"What?" Lance screeched. "Why didn't you say that sooner? What if I accidentally made it go off and it made us all into space pancakes?"

Shiro continued, undeterred. "It can be remotely detonated. All you need to do is sneak into Lotor's ship and place it on the crystal core. That can magnify its efficiency."

A brief pause.

"I'll go in," Keith decided. "I'll be able to unlock everything needing a Galra trace."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Lance interrupted, his visual looking displeased. "You can't just go in alone! There's a hundred percent chance you'll die in there."

"I won't, because I'll have you and Allura in there with me."

. . .

Lance grinned to himself as he planted Red firmly on the mother ship. Pidge had installed cloaking, and they'd sneaked around while the automated ships were occupied. He saw Keith wave at him from where he'd placed the black lion, and quickly jogged over.

The irony.

 _I hope I don't have to remind you that the only reason you're here is because the best pilot in your year had a discipline issue and flunked out! Don't follow in his footsteps_.

Lance grinned wider, earning a confused look from Allura. He would follow Keith across the universe if he had to.

"Ah, fuck." That, surprisingly, came from Allura. Rachel had taught her human swears. Lance had to admit, vulgar words coming from a princess's mouth packed _so_ much more of a punch. 

"Paladins," Haggar snarled. Allura cracked her knuckles. 

"You and Keith go ahead," she said, in a low, deadly voice. "I'll take care of her."

So Lance sprinted after Keith, who had taken a sharp turn down one of the poorly illuminated corridors, probably going by the schematic projected from his gauntlet. They burst into the control room, where one giant purple crystal glowed blindingly in the center.

Keith placed his hand on the display board, unlocking the shield around the crystal, and Lance quickly stuck it on. There must have been some sort of permanent glue on the bottom or something, because once he'd properly stuffed it among the sharp crevices, it didn't come away.

"You thought you could sneak aboard my ship without me noticing?"

Lance swiveled around as Keith began clicking away faster, trying to bring up the shields around the ship so the blast would be contained.

Lotor looked even more undone up front. Lance just raised his blaster, training it on his chest.

"Go to hell."

But the shot just glanced off the shield that materialized in front of Lotor. He charged forward, and Lance parried with his broadsword. He wasn't the best swordsman, but he wasn't terrible either, even if he didn't have the upper body strength of an almost-seven-foot Galran prince.

Lance could feel the heat of the blade as it narrowly missed his helmet. Lotor sneered at him.

"Pathetic. Once I've gotten you and your darling black paladin out of the way, I'll destroy your entire planet and everything your primitive civilization stands for." Lotor's eyes shifted to Keith, who was still frantically trying to override the system. "Or maybe I'll kill him first."

That was enough to distract Lance for a second. Lotor kicked in his leg-- _hard_.

Lance barely heard the sound of bone shattering over his scream.

"Lance!" Keith shouted.

"I'm okay," he choked, crawling backward and dragging his leg. The pain was almost blinding. "I'll be fine."

Lotor had already turned on Keith and was driving him towards the opening in the floor, right near the crystal. Their swords collided with a deafening clash of metal, ringing in Keith's ears and tingling down his hands. He kept stealing glances at Lance, who had managed to drag his bayard towards him. But then, Lotor made a grab for the detonator and Keith swerved out of the way.

Straight into Lance's shot.

Technically, he was wearing armor. Paladin armor was strong enough to withstand the strength of the bayard. But actually, it equaled being slammed against the floor a thousand times and then have ten tonnes dropped on your chest.

Keith stumbled backward and Lotor laughed maniacally. He took the chance and drove his sword straight through Lotor's chest. That elicited an expression of surprise as he crumpled with a sickening thud. Keith himself bent over the display board, clutching at his chest.

"Keith!"

Lance's blood had turned to ice, as soon as he saw Keith dodge and then immediately get hit by the shot from the bayard. From _his_ bayard.

Even seeing Keith properly impale Lotor didn't do anything. Not when the breastplate on Keith's armor was cracked and fragmented, blood slowly seeping out through the gaps. Not when Keith himself was bent over the board, gasping, his breath rattling through his probably-punctured lungs with every inhalation.

Lance knew what that meant. It meant that Keith had been hit hard enough for several broken ribs and massive internal bleeding. His lungs were slowly filling up with blood.

He dragged himself over to Keith, hissing through his teeth as every movement sent jolts through his leg.

"Psst. We won."

That was all it took for Keith to begin to laugh, as his knees buckled and he sank to the ground, shoulder to shoulder with Lance, backs pressed to the wall. Blood dribbled down the side of his mouth and down his chin, dripping onto his armor, but he laughed.

"We won."

They'd won. Lotor was lying dead a few meters away. They were both wounded. It was very anti-climactic, but it had been done.

 _"Guys, are you out yet? You need to detonate. We're having a hard time"._ Pidge sounded panicky.

 _"I'm out,"_ Allura's voice said. _"I haven't seen Lance or Keith._ "

 _"Guys--_ "

Lance yanked off his helmet and pulled Keith closer. He needed time to think. He needed quiet. It took him some time to realize that Keith was talking.

"--ance. Get moving."

Lance stared at the boy next to him. Keith's dark hair was tousled, his bangs all over his face and slightly wet from where his bloody hands had brushed them away. "Excuse you?"

Keith inhaled a shaky, shuddering breath. There was an empty, hollow feeling in his chest, like an organ had been ripped away. Every time he breathed, a throbbing pain resonated in that cavity and climbed up his throat.

"I said, _you need to get out_. I pressed the detonator, Lance." He looked into Lance's bright blue eyes, the same color as the sky over Varadero beach. "I pressed it. You have a minute left." The remote control was slick and useless in his hands, slowly ticking away. He'd pressed it as soon as he'd seen Lotor.

It had been a split-second decision: his and Lance's life, or the lives of everyone on Earth? Two or seven billion?

Lance looked speechless for a few seconds, then angry. "You fucking what? Like hell I'm gonna leave you here. If you've forgotten, my ankle is the size of a grapefruit."

Keith laughed weakly. "I'm serious. Go." He saw Lance's stubborn expression and frowned in frustration. "That's an _order_ , Lance. Are you disobeying a direct order from your commanding officer?"

Pulling rank was a dirty move, and both of them knew it. Lance's face twisted into an expression that was pained, victorious, happy, and sad at the same time.

"Asshole." Lance turned to gently cradle Keith's face in his palms, wiping away the tears and blood and blinking away his own tears. "I'm not leaving you here to die alone. I made a promise to stay, and I'm staying."

"But not like _this_ \--" Keith hissed through his teeth.

"Either both of us get out of here, or neither of us do." Lance held his face tighter, but not hard enough to hurt. Those indigo eyes were glittering with tears and anger and fear. _"¿Entender?"_

Keith caved and slumped against him. "Fine," he grumbled, and held up the timer on the remote--thirty seconds left. "We should tell them."

"Way ahead of you." Lance had already slipped on his helmet. "Guys, we're not getting out."

 _"The fuck are you talking about?"_ Pidge said, annoyed.

"He means it," Keith spoke. "We can't get off, and I've already pressed it."

 _"You can't be serious--_ "

"It's been an honor flying with you all," Lance managed, cutting Hunk off. He switched off incoming comms and leaned his head against Keith's, which was resting on his shoulder. "Keith? _Mi carino? Mi vida? Mi estrellas?_ "

Keith choked back a laugh and some blood. "You're really getting your money's worth, aren't you?" Lance chuckled through tears.

"I love you, Keith."

" _Te amo_ , Leandro Sanchez-McClain," Keith mumbled against Lance's armor in a mediocre Spanish accent. He looked up at Lance, eyes twinkling. "My middle name's Akira."

Lance gasped in delighted outrage. " _Dios mio _. Akira. I can't believe it."__

__His wide grin didn't disappear when Keith held up the timer. Instead, they made eye contact, and exchanged a look that held too many emotions to properly describe. Lance closed his hands around his and Keith's bayard, tucking the devices between them._ _

__The timer ticked steadily on._ _

__They didn't even realize when the seconds had run out. The last things Lance saw were Keith's eyes, dark blue with flecks of violet in them, a storm of emotions passing through._ _

__Like hurricanes._ _

__And then--_ _

__Nothing._ _

__._ _

__._ _

__._ _

__Lance's senses slowly came awake._ _

__He heard the regular, slow beeping noise first. He smelled the sharp, tangy scent of rubbing alcohol next. Then, he tasted the dry, rough taste of his mouth. His skin felt warm, the smooth blanket draped over him being the cause for that. His eyes slowly pulled open, and all sanity went to hell._ _

__Hunk was slumped over the chair he was sitting, face buried in the few inches of hospital bed next to Lance. Pidge was curled up in another chair on his other side, somehow able to fit her entire body on those few square inches of space. An empty Tupperware and a bottle of water sat on the nightstand next to him._ _

__Not trusting himself to speak, Lance tugged gently on Hunk's forelock._ _

__"Buddy," he whispered, through cracked and dry lips. "Bro, wake up."_ _

__Hunk jolted awake, blearily rubbing his eyes, then let out a yell that almost startled Pidge off her chair. She quickly handed Lance the bottle._ _

__"Lance, you're alright!" Hunk dissolved into tears. Pidge scrubbed at her eyes._ _

__"Yeah, about that, _how_ am I alright?" He winced, and then sat up so fast that his head started spinning. Nausea crawled up his throat, although whether it was from his concussion or from anxiety, he didn't know. "Keith! Where's Keith?"_ _

__"Keith's fine," Hunk said through a sniffle. "Pidge, tell him how they survived."_ _

__Pidge gave her eyes another perfunctory rub and put her glasses on again. "It seems that Zarkon did something to Keith's bayard and infused the metal with even more quintessence or something. So when its paladin's life was in danger, it put up a shield strong enough to protect you both."_ _

__It must have have been a particle-barrier-grade shield, because they'd barely been a few meters away from the bomb._ _

__"We found you among the wreckage," Pidge continued. "Holding both your bayards."_ _

__"Keith was pretty much gone when we found him," Hunk said, nodding, though he still looked inclined to burst into tears at any second. "I don't know what hit him, but it almost crushed his lungs. You were just unconscious."_ _

__Lance's heart seized, as if a cold hand had been wrapped around it. "My blaster. He was accidentally shot by my blaster." He swung his legs over the edge of the bed, ignoring Hunk's protests and his own throbbing ankle. "Hunk, my man, I love you, but I will ram you out of the way if you don't--"_ _

__Hunk moved helplessly, not able to decide between letting Lance hurt himself and hurting Lance if he tried to fight back. Lance hobbled to the door, wincing occasionally and refusing help from Pidge. He nearly fell backward when the door slammed open, showing a panting Keith with Shiro standing behind him, holding the IV and shrugging._ _

__"I tried to stop him."_ _

__"Screw off, man," Keith mumbled, as he darted forward and wrapped his arms around Lance, who did the same. They stood there, Keith's face resting on Lance's shoulder, Lance's nose buried in his hair with that familiar sweet, peppery fragrance that was so _Keith_. "I thought that was it. I thought we were going to die."_ _

__"Yeah, me too." Lance inhaled the scent of cinnamon again. "Damn, we don't value our lives enough, do we?" He felt Keith laugh hoarsely against his shoulder, the sound resonating through him like a bell._ _

__"Yep. We're idiots."_ _

__"Finally," Shiro said with a sigh. "One thing I can agree with." He grinned as Lance pouted at him._ _

__"Come on, _grandpa_. We almost died. You have to be nice to us."_ _

__Shiro just slid Hunk the IV. "I have the right to boss you two around seeing as you can't be trusted with your own damn lives." But he smiled, even as Keith burrowed further into the crook of Lance's neck and Lance's cheeks flooded with color._ _

__His arms had fallen asleep already, tingling with pins and needles, but he didn't move. Not when Keith had completely wrapped himself around his body. It was kind of like when a wild animal chooses to lay down on you, because fuck, you don't want this to ever end. A higher, ethereal being has _chosen_ you._ _

__In this case, the higher being was Keith Kogane. So his arm was a worthy sacrifice._ _

__Lance just smiled as Shiro herded Hunk and Pidge out of the room. They'd worked so hard to get where they'd gotten. They'd sacrificed so many things, saved so many lives._ _

__In the end, it had all been worth it. So he didn't care whether Keith was a drooler, or even a kicker, because as long as he was right there by his side, Lance would be happy._ _

__The red paladin was, after all, the right hand of the black paladin._ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me tell you, lung contusions are not a joke. That shit _hurts_ , man. I had a mild one a few weeks ago (I don't know how, I just did) and it just hurt to inhale. 
> 
> My point being, don't hurt your lungs, alright? You need those two shits, no matter how bitchy your bronchitis may get sometimes.
> 
> P.S. The next chapter is inspired by the B99 Halloween Heist of S5. More or less.
> 
> Translations:  
> Mi carino. Mi vida. Mi estrellas. - My treasure. My life. My stars. (They're cute-ass nicknames.)  
> Entender? - Understand?  
> Te amo - Love you/I love you  
> Dios mio - My god


	10. Epilogue: plaque-hunting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a hell lot of situation change skips, but if it was a TV show, it would've been a neatly spliced montage. You know, hilarious transitions and all.

The Garrison's command center had been cleared specially for this. Samuel Holt stood on top of the platform, holding up a flat rectangular plaque that was embellished with golden letters--THE ULTIMATE PALADIN/GENIUS.

The paladins stood gathered around the foot of the platform, along with most of the deck officers who still had to continue working but wanted to view the phenomenon. Shiro had somehow managed to rope Adam into joining.

"Alright, folks," Commander Holt announced loudly, his voice carrying and projecting around the round room. "Today is the day of the Victory Heist, a day of celebration for the freedom that the paladins of Voltron have brought. This plaque will be locked in this chest--" he patted the metal box sitting on the podium in front of him. "--and placed in Commander Iverson's office. Whoever possesses the plaque by twelve hundred hours will be declared _the ultimate paladin slash genius_."

Matt stepped up on the platform, waving a gigantic clock that had the time on it in large digital red letters. "And there you have it. Paladins, choose your teams."

"I choose my best bro Hunk," Lance said instantly, and Hunk beamed at him.

"Pidge," Keith called, and Pidge waved her middle fingers as high as she could reach, which wasn't too high. Hunk looked mildly offended.

"Allura!" Adam (who had turned out to be surprisingly competitive) yelled, and Allura combed her bangs with her fingers before regally sweeping over to him. Shiro smiled.

"I guess that leaves me with Coran."

Coran whooped and started demonstrating his sleepy time moves to one bemused Veronica. Lance sneered at Keith and Pidge.

"Prepare to die, losers."

Keith grinned, eyes shining with the challenging glint that Lance loved. "Bring it, pretty boy."

Curtis from bridge crew leaned over to Lance, frowning. "Isn't that your boyfriend?"

(It was hard not to notice that the red and black paladin were dating)

Lance paused and grinned. "Uh huh. Love you Keith, but you're going down," he called, stifling a laugh at Curtis' amazed look. Keith scowled back, but it held no real heat.

"Love you too, I'm gonna take you down with me," he yelled back. The officers around them giggled to themselves at their antics.

On the platform, Sam Holt spread his arms wide.

"Let the Victory Heist begin!" he shouted. The bridge crew laughed as the paladins and their teammates rushed out of the room to wherever they had to scheme.

. . .

Lance rushed into the empty barracks closest to Iverson's office, dragging Hunk behind him. "Hunk, I know you have a plan." He clicked his fingers anxiously. "Come on, use your big smart brain."

Hunk chuckled. "I'm actually pretty relaxed about the whole thing. We know that Keith and Pidge are impatient as heck and are gonna sneak in to steal the plaque. All we have to do is steal it from them."

"And how are we gonna do that?" Lance asked, frowning and pacing the room. Suddenly, he clicked his fingers. "Keith has a special little place where he told me he used to hide his Blade knife. I bet they're gonna stash it there."

Hunk looked uncomfortable. "I don't know, is it fair to play against Keith, seeing how he's your boyfriend and all? It's kinda underhanded."

Lance scoffed, waving a hand. "Shiro's playing against Adam, and you don't see _him_ complaining." His eyes widened. "Oh no. Adam."

They'd forgotten how sneaky Adam was, being a senior officer with clearance.

"We need to scope out the situation," Hunk advised, and they silently walked out of the room to Iverson's office. There was the plaque in the chest behind his chair, gleaming silver in the overhead fluorescent light shining upon it. Lance grinned and summoned his bayard. After a few slices at the chest, the plaque was out. Hunk looked very apprehensive.

"Can we just take it like that?"

"Relax, man." Lance made a 'calm down' gesture with his hands. "They'll notice it'll be gone soon enough, but we'll already have hidden it by then."

"Where do we hide it?" Hunk asked, looking both gleeful and conflicted. Lance grinned.

"Sam Holt's mission specs drawer."

. . .

Keith crouched over Pidge as she clicked away at her laptop and grinned. "You put a _tracker_ on Lance?"

"He didn't even look at that taco before swallowing it whole, so its not my fault," she said, and then mirrored the wicked grin Keith was wearing. "Oh, he has no idea what's gonna hit him. He's stupid enough to leave the plaque unguarded, I know that."

Keith squinted at the screen, where a blue and a yellow dot were making their way through the corridors. "Is that your dad's office?"

Pidge grinned. "Yep. I bet he's hiding it in one of the drawers."

Keith looked at her. "How long have you been planning this?"

Her eyes shone with a manic gleam and her glasses flashed semaphores of light at him. "I gave Dad the idea."

"Oh man, Lance is gonna be _so_ bummed." He bumped the fist she held up and they trotted over to where Sam Holt's office was located. Keith sneaked in and started rooting through the drawers. Pidge looked up as he gave a yell of triumph, holding out the plaque.

"We are _so_ going to win," she commented. "Where do we stash it?"

Keith's eyes glinted. "I know just the place."

She followed him as he sprinted through the halls, elbowing past officers, running into the elevator, and up the stairs to the roof.

"What the hell, man?" she panted, as he skidded to a stop, not even a little out of breath. She watched with wide eyes as he walked around to where the solar panels were located, and tucked the little plaque out of sight under one of the panels. "You're just gonna leave it there?"

Keith smiled. "Kosmo," he called, and there was a brief buzz of white noise before the wolf-dog teleported next to him. He pointed at a spot next to the panels. "Sit."

Kosmo sat.

He grinned at Pidge, who looked like she'd caught on. "He loves soaking in the sun, so win-win."

"We're geniuses," she muttered. "We're gonna crush this."

. . .

"Coran, do you trust me?"

Coran saluted and clicked his heels as Shiro bent over the desk in the technician's room. "Without a doubt."

"And will you follow my every direction without questioning me?"

"Absolutely." Coran beamed at him. "Anything that will win us the gloried plaque."

"Good." Shiro smiled, and brandished the 'gloried' plaque. "Can you climb into the vents and stash this right above my room for me? I won't fit, and you're slick enough to do it."

Coran nodded, brows knitting in what he imagined to be a show of determination. "What will you be doing?"

Shiro handed him a responder with a beeping orange light. "Notify me once you've hidden the plaque and tell me if you see anyone coming into the room, and I'll cut out the lights in the command center, alright?" Coran nodded, pocketing the responder, and climbed up the ladder they'd already set up leading to the vent entrance.

"Really, the mice would be better for this, though they would betray us to Allura in an instant, so--" Coran's voice trailed off as he crawled further in, and Shiro grinned.

"Thanks, Coran," he called, and thought he heard a faint 'no problem, captain' somewhere along the way. Contrary to what he'd said, he was going to wait until one of the teams came into the room, heard Coran scuffling about, wait for them to snatch the plaque, and _then_ cut out the lights.

Hopefully, everything would go as planned.

. . .

Adam rolled his eyes as he heard muffled ouches and oof's coming from the ceiling above them. "Classic Takashi, thinking he can get away with sticking the plaque in the vent above his room. Allura, do your thing."

She shot him a mischievous look, closed her eyes, her marks starting to glow. Adam watched with only a little awe as she grew taller--six feet, seven, eight, nine--and the mice crawled up her outstretched arm into the vent they'd opened.

They squeaked, and Adam didn't understand a thing, but by the way the plump yellow mouse was waving its arms, they'd found the plaque. Allura let out a squeal of triumph as the mice brought down the plaque, and she handed it to Adam.

"What now?"

Adam grinned, half-moon glasses glinting (and reminding Allura eerily of Pidge), and raised his phone. The large white digital letters read 11:53 am.

"We're the ones who have it by twelve hundred hours," he said with a smirk. "As Commander Holt said, so we're the winners of this year's heist."

Allura raised her palm, grinning, and he enthusiastically smacked it.

"I quite like what you humans call high fives," she admitted, shrinking back to normal size. They exchanged victorious looks, and started walking very fast to the command center. 

The other teams and most of the bridge crew officers (and there were a lot) were already there, waiting as Samuel Holt counted down the minutes to twelve o'clock.

"Well, twelve hundred hours and you still don't have the plaque," Lance said, smirking at Pidge. She smirked back.

"Oh, don't we." She seemed unusually unbothered, and so was Keith. "We are so gonna win."

Hunk frowned. "What does that mean? _We_ have the plaque."

Keith raised an eyebrow, looking baffled. "Uh, no. Kosmo!"

Kosmo appeared in a shower of electric blue sparks and static, and Keith dislodged the plaque from his mouth. Lance looked as bewildered as Hunk sounded when he brought out an identical replica of the plaque from the backpack he was carrying.

"Wait a minute," Allura said. "How do you guys have the plaque?" Adam held up the one he was holding.

"Yeah, we brought it out to rub it in your faces," he said, frowning. Pidge adjusted her glasses, squinting at the plaque in his hand. Sam Holt, on the platform, didn't look confused at all. Instead, he looked like he was quite enjoying it all.

When the lights went out, confusion reigned.

Suddenly, the world was white. Lance looked at Keith, the whites of whose eyes, a part of his uniform, and his teeth were all glowing the same eerie white.

"Blacklights!" Pidge shouted. "Look at the plaques!"

Everyone simultaneously looked at the plaques they were holding. Adam stared at his, on which was written in large white painted-on block letters, one word above the title words and one below--WILL YOU. Keith's were engraved with MARRY. The plaque Hunk held said ME?

WILL YOU MARRY ME?

. . .

Keith sneaked a sideways peek at Lance, whose lips were moving soundlessly as he read the inscriptions. The uniformed officers among them were whispering among themselves in surprise and astonishment.

"Will you marry me?" Allura read in a small voice, sounding awed.

With a loud click, the fluorescent lights came back online.

Everyone in the large hall-- _almost_ everyone, except for Sam and a grinning Matt Holt--gasped. Even Keith. All the paladins. Because--

Shiro.

Shiro, on one knee in front of Adam, silver hair tousled, fingers speckled with dried white paint. In his hands was a small black ring box.

Adam looked stunned, but only for a second. His lips curved up into a wry smile when Shiro began to speak. The hall full of officers and senior cadets fell silent as they fixed their attention on the captain of the IGF-Atlas, who had somehow managed to clear a circle right in the center.

"Adam, you're the best person I know. And we've stuck by one another through thick and thin--literally--and you always saw me for who I was, not who people thought me to be. So, Adam Whittaker--" Shiro opened the box to show a glittering silver ring inside. "Will you marry me?"

Hunk grabbed Lance's arm, squeezing tightly. Keith's navy eyes were wide when Lance sneaked a look, and he was gripping Pidge's shoulder. Pidge herself was biting her lip, and Allura was vibrating with tension.

Adam's eyes were getting redder and glossier by the second. He blinked back tears (because: 'not now, you bastards') and a watery smile spread over his face.

"Takashi Shirogane," he said slowly. "I will marry you."

They didn't cheer. _Not yet_ , said the strange buzzing energy in the room.

Shiro let out an audible sigh of relief, rising to his feet and slipping the ring on Adam's left hand. Through a wide smile, Adam grabbed him by the lapels and kissed him.

Then Keith began to yell himself hoarse.

The hall burst into applause--Hunk and Coran wailed over each other, Pidge sniffled very hard and wiped her glasses, Allura covered her mouth with her hands and sobbed to the mice, Lance very discreetly linked his pinky with Keith's as he cheered (Keith's small smile gave him away), and Matt Holt began to wolf-whistle very loudly. Nadia Rizavi was crying into a completely unaffected Ina Leifsdottir's shoulder sleeve, and James Griffin was patting a rather emotional Ryan Kinkade on the back.

When the newly engaged couple finally broke apart, they saw Commander Holt smile over them like he was some all-knowing deity who had orchestrated the whole thing and known it would happen from the start.

Which he probably had.

Keith looked at Lance as the paladins rushed to congratulate Shiro and Adam, and frowned. "Hey, you good?"

Lance sniffled, raising a wrist to his mouth. "They just look so happy--" he burst into tears on Keith's shoulder, and Keith just smiled his surprised but gratified smile as he wrapped his arm tighter around Lance.

"Are you dropping hints here?"

Lance snorted into his ear and pulled away, dramatically wiping his cheeks dry. "Yeah, hints for you to do something romantic for me. You've got standards to beat, babe."

"I've been used as a prop," Pidge murmured, but she didn't look too offended.

Keith snickered, but it melted into a small smile as Lance gave him a tiny grin in his periphery.  


Maybe, when the universe finally decided to give its paladins peace, that would be him and Lance.

Maybe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If the mushy moments (Shiro is _such_ a cheeseball) didn't make you squeal with joy, then I have failed you. 
> 
> Comment if my fluff-writing skills pleased you. Or leave kudos. Just show me you liked it. DO THINGS, PEOPLE. 
> 
> I was debating between writing a proposal or a wedding, but honestly I'm kind of tired of this fic (and I wanna get to other AUs because apparently my brain has no notion of sanity) and also, I idolize Peraltiago (Jamy?). They're so real and have such a well-rounded relationship that I can't help but think Shadam (Adashi?) would be like that. 
> 
> P.S. It was super weird to write Shiro kissing someone because he's _the Dad_ , come on.  
> P.P.S. No more canoodling in front of the kids, Shiro.  
> P.P.P.S. Do me a solid and list your favorite AUs, would you? I need inspiration, people. INSPIRATION.


End file.
